


Oh You'll Find Me Between (The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea)

by orangeyouglad8



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:51:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 49,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeyouglad8/pseuds/orangeyouglad8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Formidable Clarke Griffin and the Almighty Commander take to the high seas!</p><p>“Commander, we have company.” Anya hands over her scope, nods her head towards the stern of their ship. Lexa looks through the glass, the familiar lion gleaming in the sun on the ship quickly closing distance. She can’t help but let a playful smirk spread on her face, “Griffin… of course.”</p><p>(Clarke and Lexa like to plunder caves... what else is there in life?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

Liquid sloshes over the edge of the pewter cup as Niylah sets it down in front of Clarke with a grunt.  Raven smirks and swigs from her own cup as Clarke shakes off her now wet hand.

“Why do you always have to piss off the good ones?”

“What did I do?”

“Come on, Clarke. What you always do. Bat your long lashes and flirt and then ship out like none of it matters.”

Clarke scoffs into her drink, “Because none of it does matter, Rave.”

Raven nods her head towards Niylah, “Tell that to her. And while you’re at it, tell her not to take it out on me just because I sail with you.”

“Piss off, Raven.”

Raven turns around and locates the boy lurking in the back of the darkened room who smiles before slinking further into the shadows. She slides herself carefully off the stool, adjusting her legs under her. “Don’t mind if I do, Griff.”

She saunters away towards the shadows and Clarke can’t help herself. “We push off at dawn, Reyes. If you’re late you’ll have to swim.”

“Aye aye, Cap.”

Clarke takes another swig from her watered down rum. Raven was right, Niylah is angry, but she’ll never admit it, never give Raven the satisfaction. Instead, she finishes her drink and asks for another, calmly brushing her fingers over Niylah’s wrist.

The look she receives isn’t as frosty as before and Clarke wonders if she might have a warm bed to sleep in tonight.

“Still the same cocky asshole, huh, Griffin?”

“Still following me for lack of better ideas, Anya?” Clarke turns to Raven’s formerly empty stool to the tall, proud woman perched on top, the smirk on her face plain as day.

“Just visiting the best port in the Caribbean… you know, this place used to be known for it’s hospitality until someone started fucking around with the bar help.”

“Must be a lot of someones then, every time I come in here this place is crawling with vermin.”

Anya lets out a laugh and claps Clarke hard on the back, “I’ll give you that, Griffin.”

Clarke can’t help but smile when Niylah nearly spills Anya’s drink all over her as she sets it down on the bar.

“What are you trading?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Anya takes a sip from her drink and grimaces, Clarke smiles as Niylah catches her eye.

“How’s the ship holding up these days? Heard you took some gunfire from that bastard Roan.”

“Is that so?”

Clarke nods, growing tired of the game. “He’s been giving everyone trouble… trying to find that damn map.”

Anya shifts on her stool, twitches her foot. “You know the old girl. Strong and sturdy.”

“Just like the Ark.”

Anya laughs again, “Please? That hunk of wood? I’m surprised you ever get anywhere, Griff.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and downs the rest of her drink before standing and brushing her palms off on her pants, the worn leather soft underneath her fingers. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out two coins, throwing them down on the bar and winking at Niylah, ignoring the glare from the girl’s father as he wipes down the other end of the bar.

“Well, this has been marvelous… but I have other business to attend to.” Clarke steps closer to Anya, lowers her voice, “Tell your Commander she’d be wise not to move against Roan. Not now. Something’s not right here.”

Anya tries to roll her eyes but stops herself, meeting Clarke’s gaze. “What do you know?”

“I know enough.”


	2. II

Jaha is sitting behind his giant desk, the sunset silhouetting his frame from the window. The pink and orange sky aflame against the calm ocean waters. Clarke shuts the door quietly behind her, nodding to the man standing guard outside.

“Captain Griffin, what an _honor_ it is for you to finally join me.” The disdain drips off his voice, he doesn’t bother to look up from the paper his quill is scratching against.

Clarke clears her throat, “Had to see about something… Is this a good time, or would you like to finish whatever it is you’re working on?”

At that he sets his pen down, joins his hands together on his desk and looks up.  “And what is it you’d like to discuss with me today?”

“I think you know exactly why I’m here, Jaha.”

He bristles. Clarke steps forward and leans against the desk. “More crews are finding out.”

“We knew this was a possibility. It doesn’t change the plan.”

“For me it does.”

He leans back to study her face, the seriousness of her voice. “I never would have guessed you’d back down from a challenge, Clarke.”

Clarke stands up, straightening her spine against the threat. “I’m not backing down. But this is more serious than we anticipated… my price just went up.”

He lets out a full, throaty laugh. It makes the skin along Clarke’s neck crawl. “You think I can’t go downstairs and find another captain to complete this task for me? That I don’t have my pick? Come on, Griffin. The terms remain unchanged.”

Clarke takes a deep breath and sits down in the leather chair, props her feet up on the desk in front of her.  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Thelonious. You may run this island, but you don’t run the crews that sail out of it. You work for us. Your businesses all depend on _us_. Say I find what you’re looking for… who’s to say I bring it back here? Who’s to say I don’t lead one of the shadows stalking me right to the prize, let them take it?”

He leans forward again, his eyes changing to dangerous in a blink. “You overstep, Griffin. You’re forgetting that I know the secret about your father.”

Clarke’s stomach turns inside of her but she forces her face to remain unchanged. “And you’re forgetting why you know that.”

He blinks first, so uncharacteristic of the iron fist that controls the port. They sit in silence for a beat that stretches, neither one wanting to be the first to speak. Clarke can feel the way his eyes size her up, can feel the second he understands the seriousness of her threat. He sits back again and takes a breath, “Very well, I’ll double it.”

Clarke takes her feet off the desk and stands, holding out her hand for his shake of good faith, fighting the smile she can feel building on her face. When his heavy hand joins hers, the grip is firm… a warning.

“Don’t worry, Jaha. I know what I’m doing.”

“And that is why you were chosen. Don’t let me down, Clarke.” She steps towards the door and reaches for the handle. “You’d be wise to lose those shadows…”

She stops for a moment, absorbing his words before opening the door and continuing back down to the bar, to Niylah’s small smile.

Ignoring the heavy eyes in the corner belonging to the one shadow in particular she hasn’t been able to shake.


	3. III

The old wooden chair squeaks as Clarke pulls it out to sit, nudging the second glass of rum across the table.  She smirks at the raised eyebrow and silent question of her companion, “Well if you’re gonna be waiting on me all night I might as well buy you a drink for your troubles.”

Lexa raises her glass in a toast before throwing it back in one go. “Who says I’m waiting on you, Griffin?”

“Keep telling yourself that, _Commander_.” Clarke says around a laugh, pulling her drink closer to her and leaning across the table. “We both know why you’re here.”

Lexa leans in as well, pushing her empty cup to the side, a wicked grin on her face, “Care to enlighten me?”

Clarke stares her down for a moment, Lexa’s hat still pulled low over her eyes. “You’ve been following me. We both know it.”

“Following you? That’s a stretch even for you, Griff.”

“Hmm… “ Clarke swings back the last bit of her rum, “Guess time will tell.” She slaps her hand down on the table and stands, the chair squeaking again behind her. “Don’t wait up… I’ll be busy for a while.” She nods back towards Niylah.

“You never change do you…”

Clarke sends Lexa a wide grin, “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

**Xx**

Dawn is just starting to rise on the horizon as Clarke steps down into the rowboat, head pounding and exhausted but a smile still on her face. She looks up when she hears Raven’s wooden leg step along the dock, a matching smile on her face.

“Good night?”

“ _Great_ night.”

“Alright. Everyone else is already on board, let’s move out.”

“Cap, you get everything you need?”  Raven swings down into the boat with practiced ease and the rope in her hand.

Clarke waits for her to settle on the bench across from her before pushing off the dock and digging the oars into the gentle water. “I think so.” The wooden handles graze the callouses on her palms, the motion soothing.

“What do you mean you think so?”

“I mean, Jaha agreed to our new terms and I have a fairly good idea of where I need to go.”

“Clarke… I swear if you’re dragging us all along on some wild goose chase-”

“It’s not. There’s a reason the Commander has been following us. There’s a reason Roan is always around. We’re on to something, Rave. I know it.”

Raven laughs, “Sometimes I wish it wasn’t so easy for me to follow your lead. You’re kind of a crazy bastard, you know that right?”

“Sure do. But that’s what makes me the best.”

“We’ll see about that, Cap. We still don’t know if this is a goose chase yet.”

**Xx**

“Octavia.” Clarke nods as she swings her legs over the side of her ship, landing on the familiar deck. They both throw the lines down to the row boat and wait for Raven to attach them before pulling it up. Octavia steps forward to help Raven on board.

“Where are we going?” Octavia’s voice is husky, the night still clinging to the brightening sky.

“I have to see the maps.”

“Cap, I thought you said you had a good idea of where we needed to go.” Raven can’t hide her skepticism.

Clarke nods and fixes the hat on her head, brushing stray hair off her face. “I do…. but I need to see the maps.”

The maps strewn about her desk are in the same spot she left them, the compass she usually keeps in her pocket still open on top of them and pointing East. She takes her hat off and runs fingers through messy hair, wishing she’d had more time to dry it before leaving Niylah’s room.

Niylah’s bed.

“Speak to me… speak to me…” Her eyes move from one map to the next, waiting for the spark. A soft knock on the door pulls her away. “Enter.”

Octavia moves in like a shadow, “Cap?”

“This might be a wild goose chase,” She whispers more to herself than Octavia.

“What?”

“Nothing… What did you need, Octavia?”

“I just wanted to let you know that the _Steltrona_ left an hour ago.” She steps closer to Clarke’s desk, lowers her voice so it doesn’t carry out the still open door.

“ _Shit_.”

“I thought you didn’t like them following us?”

“I don’t but, you know how it is.”

“No, I don’t.” Octavia sits on the corner of the desk.

“Which way did they go, O?”

“Clarke…”

“ _Which way_.” Clarke growls, no longer holding back.

“West.”

“We’ll never catch up….”

“Why would we want to catch up to Lexa? Clarke, what the fuck is going on?”

Clarke looks back down at the maps, charts courses West. “Of course. _Of Course_!”

“Clarke!”

“Get her going, we need to follow the _Steltrona_.”

“I’m not moving until you tell me why. We’ve been trying to shake them for months, and now you’re pulling this shit. What happened at port?”

Clarke plops her hat back on her head and straightens her coat, “We’re both hunting the same ghosts. Now, stop wasting time and get us moving!”

“Aye, aye.” Octavia rolls her eyes but stands up from the desk and follows Clarke out onto the deck.

Raven catches Clarke’s eye, “You good?”

Clarke smiles, “Never better. Let’s go…”


	4. IV

The sea spray feels refreshing on Clarke’s face as she stands at the prow of her ship, needing a moment. **  
**

A breath.

Some peace and quiet from Raven’s skeptism and Octavia’s endless questions.

She should never have teased Lexa last night, but it was too easy.

The Commander has been a thorn in her side for as long as she can remember. Either one step ahead or one step behind her. It’s infuriating.

It’s maddening.

It’s a challenge.

One that she, admittedly, loves. Even though it makes her want to pull her hair out.

The Commander always has that smirk firmly in place whenever they meet face to face. Like she’s been waiting for Clarke. Expecting her.

And maybe she is.

Maybe this is all just a game.

And really, pirating is a game.

With high stakes. With death on the line. Or treason.

Hanging or swimming with the sharks, Clarke doesn’t know which is worse.

A shiver runs down her spine when she thinks about it and puts it from her mind. They’ve been sailing West for most of the day, the sun finally catching up with them and lowering on the horizon in front of her.

It’s a brilliant hue in the sky, red and purple before her.

Clarke takes it all in, never letting the beauty go to waste. The painting of the sun as it says it’s farewell and sinks below the sea until morn.

She hears steps approach behind her and takes a deep breath, recognizing the heavy gait.

“Dinner is ready below deck.”

“Thanks, Murphy.”

He stops talking but doesn’t leave. Watching the sunset with Clarke. “Cap?”

“Yes?”

“I know there’s more to the story and I know you’re not willing to let us in on it, but… I overheard some bad gossip while we were docked last night.”

“You know what they say about gossip, don’t you Murph?”

“I do but… this had a bit of truth to it.”

He pauses waiting for Clarke’s assent. The crew learned early and well not to test her patience. Not to bring her frivolity and idle talk.

“Well, are you going to tell me or make me guess?”

“Right, sorry. I heard a rumor that Roan found some strange coins. Coins that a few ships are looking for… including the _Steltrona_.”

Clarke waits. Fingers the small object in her pocket. “I thought you said that this gossip had a ring of truth to it? I see you’ve wasted my time.”

“Captain,”

“Enough, Murphy.” She hisses.

“You think we don’t know, but we do, Clarke. This isn’t going to end well… for any of us.”

Clarke turns on him, fast and fierce, her dagger at his throat before he can even blink. “I saved your life once from hanging, don’t make me regret that.”

He meets her eyes with a cold anger, fear. He nods ever so slightly.

“Doubt me again and you will face a death even less honorable than that.” After a moment she lets him go, returning her dagger to the sheath at her side. He grabs his neck and grumbles, but she can still see the fire in his eyes. “Go enjoy your dinner with the crew.”

“Yes, Cap.”

When he’s gone, Clarke takes a steadying breath, her fingers on the small coin again. Flipping it over and over in her pocket. The strange symbol stamped into it haunting her dreams. Her every move.

She knows this piece of gossip is right and true. Berates herself for losing her temper with Murphy. It’s all but an affirmation of his belief. A ringing endorsement for their secretive mission.

Gossip turns into more shadows.

She already has two she doesn’t need.

And they’ve still not caught sight of the _Steltrona_ , or the island she was headed towards.

**Xx**

Clarke returns to her quarters after the sun sets and twilight settles over the sky. There’s a plate of food on her desk and a flagon of beer, but it goes untouched. She studies the maps again, the lantern on her desk sending shadows flickering about the cabin, like ghosts haunting her.

The ghosts of everything she’s given up.

She hears the crew start their nightly routine of drinking and singing, but doesn’t join them tonight. Instead, she pulls the coin from her pocket and holds it against the light, trying to decipher if there is more to it than meets the eye.

But she knows.

There isn’t.

She’s studied it for months now. There’s nothing more to tell. It remains the same as always, the foreign symbol etched onto the face, simple and clean.

Clarke picks at the food on her plate, needing something to fuel her, to keep the ideas flowing in her brain.

She doesn’t touch the ale, but goes to the galley to retrieve some water. The ship is quiet in the night, the party having died down, the crew disposed in their bunks.

The creaks and groans of the ship, of wood against waves, are comforting and soothing to Clarke.

Her home.

Her life.

Still not sleepy she climbs back up to the deck, pulling her coat around her in the chilly night air. The stars on full display above her, constellations and stories drawn in the heavens. She climbs up onto the rail and reclines, lying down and tempting fate with one leg over the edge.

Clarke has always felt at home under the stars, as if they speak to her. Old friends guiding her, even in the darkest moments.

And after a while, they speak again. And Clarke hears it, feels it.

With a new lightness over her, she heads back to her quarters and climbs into bed.

**Xx**

A knock jolts Clarke awake.

She sits up in bed, flustered and confused. Not sure where she is until a familiar voice begins speaking on the other side of the door, “Clarke… Clarke we found ‘em.”

Her heart stirs and she swings her legs over the side of her bunk, pulling her boots on as fast as she can and throwing her shirt over her head, grabbing her jacket off the desk as she opens the door. “Where?”

“Just ahead of us. I think they anchored.”

“What?”

“They don’t appear to be moving, Cap. Maybe they’re waiting for us so they can be rid of us once and for all.”

“Lexa would never, Raven. Her code doesn’t allow it.”

Raven laughs, “What code? We’re fucking pirates.”

Clarke brushes past her and back up the stairs to the deck. Octavia is waiting for her and hands over the scope. The familiar black ship is there, just ahead of them, flags fluttering in the wind. She watches for the moment, before coming to the same conclusion. “What the fuck are they waiting for?”

“Don’t know, Cap. What do you want us to do?”

“Keep going, we’ll pull close to them and see what happens.”

“Are you sure you want to do that, Griff?”

Clarke cocks her eyebrow and meets the skeptical gaze of her friend, “Always, Reyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steltrona = stealth runner- mythical horse that none can catch


	5. V

Clarke stares through the glass at the unmoving ship. The fog of the morning still rising off the ocean, clouding the view of anything that lies beyond the _Steltrona_. Her sails down, her body floating in the middle of the ocean. **  
**

“How are they anchored?” She whispers more to herself than anyone. Raven shrugs next to her, but doesn’t respond.

“Someone get me the map.” She shouts out, hearing scrabbling feet behind her. Everyone always trying to prove themselves, their worth to the crew. To the captain. The map is handed to her in another moment by a gasping young man. She nods and takes it, unfurling it as the Ark creeps closer to the unmoving ship.

“ _Clarke_?” Raven is hushed at her side.

“I don’t understand…” Raven grabs her elbow and squeezes, earning a glare. “Reyes.”

“Right,” Raven removes her hand and leans closer to Clarke. “Are they…?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what if…”

“Impossible.”

“Clarke.”

“Raven.”

“We’re getting closer to them and we don’t know what we’re walking into.” Her voice is a harsh whisper.

“I do.”

“You know, this blind luck is only going to get you so far…”

Clarke bristles, “It’s not blind.”

“Whatever you say.” Raven rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, her piece said. Her worries voiced.

Clarke stands up straighter and rolls the map back up. The _Steltrona_ is closer than ever. “Octavia?”

“Yes, Cap.” Octavia’s voice is clear and excited behind her.

“Make sure we don’t pass them up. I want to see what our dear friends are up to.”

“You got it, Cap.”

**Xx**

“Well, looks like someone ran out of ideas.” Anya’s voice is smug as it carries across the short distance between the two ships.

The Ark glides next to the _Steltrona_ , Clarke meeting the expectant faces of the crew who’d been standing on the gleaming dark wood of the other ship waiting for her.

“Nonsense. Just figured I’d say hello, see how you guys were doing. Maybe some of you would like a ride.”

Clarke’s eyes slide away from the laughing Anya to the broody Commander, a smirk on her face.

That smirk.

“Clarke.”

“Commander.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Like hell I shouldn’t.” Anya, Indra and the rest of Lexa’s crew quiet, watching the two captains speak. Raven grumbles at Clarke’s side under her breath, but a swift knock of her elbow shuts her up.

Octavia runs up to Clarke, breathless. “Clarke…”

“Not now, Octavia.”

“No, really. _Clarke_ …” She points out past the _Steltrona_ , hands Clarke the spyglass.

Clarke grabs it annoyed, brings it up to her eye. Through the fog she can see the faint outline of land.

“Well I’ll be.”

“Clarke… would you care to come over so we can discuss this matter?”

“Finally itching to get me into your quarters, Lexa?” Clarke winks. Her excitement at seeing the island before them running over.

“Captain, I think we both have some information to share with one another.” Lexa’s smirk disappears from her lips, her face turns cold, stoic. Clarke swallows and nods, sensing the shift.

Understanding that there’s more at stake here.

“Octavia,” she calls over her shoulder, “Make sure we’re docked well. Mind the crew while I’m gone.”

“You got it.”

“Clarke,” Raven hisses, “You’re _not_ going over there alone.”

Clarke meets Raven’s worried eyes, sees the stress written on her brow. So uncommon, and yet, so familiar to Clarke.

“I am. I’ll be fine, Reyes.”

**Xx**

Clarke’s boots thud heavily as she jumps down onto the deck of the _Steltrona_. She takes it in for a moment. The dark, almost black wood. The clean sails. The brands etched and burned into some of the surfaces.

The same one on the flag that flies just under the black.

She’s impressed. She doesn’t try to hide it.

She’s always wondered what it would be like to stand on board, the legend of the _Steltrona_ reaching far and wide.

“Welcome, Griffin.” The Commander nods, tipping her hat.

“Quite a ship you’ve got here.”

That smirk tugs at Lexa’s lips again, but doesn’t develop. Not the way Clarke wants it to. “Thank you.”

“What’s the business you need to discuss? Unless you just wanted me to see how shiny you got this deck?” Clarke scruffs her boot on the wood below her.

Lexa rolls her eyes and turns, “Follow me, Griff.”

Clarke walks behind Lexa, earning a stare from Indra. It cuts through her, but she holds her head up high and straightens her back.

Indra has always been the most hostile of Lexa’s crew. Untrusting. Unforgiving.

A true pirate in every sense of the word.

Lexa leads her down the stairs to the second deck, down a long hallway. Indra follows behind Clarke, her heavy boots sounding ominous against the wood. Lexa opens a large door at the stern of the ship, nodding to Indra as she walks through. She waits for Clarke to step inside before she shuts the door.

Clarke takes in the large cabin, the windows that showcase the gleaming ocean behind them. The magnificent desk, the large bed. Her own quarters are large and comfort enough on a ship, but this… this is luxury.

Lexa walks to the desk and throws her hat down with a sigh, running her hands through her wavy hair. Clarke can’t help but look, smile.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen you with your hat off before. I was starting to think you had a bald spot or something.”

Lexa smiles, averts her eyes from Clarke.

Clarke watches as the very tips of her cheeks blush. She feels warm and confident.

Lexa pulls a bottle from the shelf and two glasses, pouring amber liquid into each before nodding towards the chair in front of it. “Care to sit?”

Clarke steps forward and sits, puts her feet up on Lexa’s desk. Watches as a shadow of annoyance crosses through Lexa’s eyes as she takes her own seat.

“Alright. Pony up.”

Lexa smirks into her glass, downs it in one swallow. “You first.”

“Nope. You pulled me onto this clunker, wanted me in your quarters. I have to think it’s for something other than drinking… finally letting me see how magnificent your eyes really are.”

Another blush. Clarke smiles victoriously into her glass as she finishes her drink, before sitting up and pouring them each another.

“Clarke.”

“Yes?”

“I know you have a coin.”

“I have many coins. I’m good at finding booty.”

Lexa sighs and sips carefully at her second drink. Seriousness settling over her.

“I know you have one you’ve never seen before. I know you’re trying to find where it leads.”

“Well, that is quite a story, Commander.”

“Rumors are flying. Rumors are often based in truth.”

Clarke shrugs, removes her own hat and scratches at her neck. “Even if I knew what you were talking about, what does it have anything to do with you?”

“You’re in over your head, Griff.”

“I’m always in over my head. I’m pretty sure that’s the life we’ve all signed up for.”

Lexa leans closer to Clarke, her eyes gray now. “I’ve seen people get hurt, die, because of this. I don’t want my most entertaining rival to settle for the same fate.”

Clarke cocks her eyebrow, not wanting this conversation to weigh so heavily on her. “Rival, huh.”

Lexa nods. Reaches into her desk and places a small object in front of Clarke.

Clarke doesn’t have to look at it to know what it is. She could draw it a thousand times. Describe it in dreams. Knows the weight, the shape, the feel of it.

“You got a plan then, Commander? Because I’m sure as shit not giving up now.”

“Work with me.”

Clarke laughs, filling the cabin. Lexa sits there and lets her, doesn’t try to stop it. Doesn’t glare. Just observes.

It’s unsettling.

It’s unnerving.

Clarke would have her look at her like that all the time. She stops and downs the rest of her drink.

“Are you finished?” Lexa’s eyebrows raise in question.

“Quite.”

“I believe we can find the lost piece of the map on that island.”

“Where did you find that island?”

“I’ve been searching for it for months.”

“Me too.”

“Guess you’re not as skilled as I am.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Clarke winks.

“You’ll never get there before I do.”

“The Ark is plenty fast.”

“We both know that it’s not as fast as this.”

Clarke sighs and looks down at her lap. “What do you propose?”

“We split the bounty.” Her voice is heavy, solemn.

“Lexa, my crew will never go for that.”

“Who said it was your bounty?” Her smirk is back, Clarke’s heart stutters.

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because I don’t want to see this get you killed.”

Clarke wants to respond, feels the retort build on her tongue but when she meets Lexa’s eyes, she sees seriousness in them. A quiet understanding. She swallows her reply and thinks.

Remembers the few times Lexa helped her. Sometimes indirectly. Sometimes letting her win.

“What do you know that I don’t?”

“I know that this is bigger than you could have ever imagined. I know that Jaha has no idea what he’s after. I know that the danger here is unlike any you’ve ever faced.”

Her voice is so quiet, so reverent.

It slams into Clarke.

“Ok.”

She holds out her hand, trusting her gut. Trusting the woman before her.

Lexa nods, stands up and takes her hand. Something inside jolts Clarke when their palms touch. She holds Lexa’s gaze, not letting it falter.

Feels a shift inside herself.

Lexa smiles, “Ok.”


	6. VI

Lexa takes her time and fills both glasses again, sliding Clarke’s back across the desk towards her with a knowing twinkle in her eye. **  
**

Clarke accepts it and raises it, waiting for Lexa to clink hers against it. When she finally assents, Clarke can’t help but smile. “This is gonna be fun.”

“This is going to be something, Griff, that’s for sure.”

They both take a few sips in silence, testing the new weight of trust as it settles on their shoulders.

“Do you have a plan, Commander?”

“Do you, Clarke?” Lexa matches her playful tone and something warms in Clarke’s belly, burning hotter than the rum that eased down.

“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” Lexa scoffs and shakes her head, taking another swig of her rum. “This was your idea, I think you should lay your plan on me first.”

“Are you ever serious, Griffin?”

“When the moment calls for it.”

“Must not have many of those moments then.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

A soft tapping at the door breaks them out of their banter. Lexa secrets the coin away, placing it in her pocket before she answers the knocking with a curt enter. Her voice slipping away from the soft teasing of a moment ago into something hard, formal.

Indra walks in, her eyes cutting through Clarke. Focusing on the feet still propped up on Lexa’s desk, her relaxed manner. Her gaze lingers before she meets Lexa’s. Lexa who has both eyebrows raised. Lexa who looks annoyed to be disturbed, to be kept waiting.

“Lincoln is back.”

Lexa nods, “Thank you, Indra.”

Indra doesn’t leave, gripping the sword at her side. “Commander…”

“I’ll see to him in a moment. You may leave.”

Indra bows her head and turns to leave. Her glance hitting Clarke once again. Clarke downs her rum and sits up, swinging her legs to the floor with a thud as the door closes.

“She always that serious?”

“I suppose you could say she makes up for what you lack.” Lexa has the hint of a smile on her face and Clarke laughs. The alcohol and the ease between them settling inside of her in a pleasant buzz.

“She doesn’t like me.”

“Indra doesn’t like anyone, do not take personal offense, Clarke.”

“I’m likeable.”

Lexa stands, pulls her hat back over her eyes and adjusts her belt. She moves around the desk, and Clarke takes the hint, standing and grabbing her own hat.  Lexa opens the door and waits for Clarke to exit.  A quiet “Perhaps,” sneaks from her lips as Clarke walks by.

**Xx**

Anya is helping Lincoln brush himself off when Clarke climbs back up to the deck. He eyes her warily but she nods and stands off to the side, waiting for Lexa to join her.

“Commander.”

“Lincoln, what did you find?”

Lincoln’s eyes slide to Clarke, he doesn’t answer.

“I think that’s my cue,” Clarke claps her hands together and glances at Lexa.

“Hold on, Captain.” Lexa steps over to Lincoln and the two have a hushed conversation. Lexa nods once, twice, before turning around. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter further on the Ark.”

“The Ark?”

Lexa nods.

“Ok, as you wish.”

Clarke climbs over first, landing on the familiar deck and holding a hand out to Lexa who follows behind her. Lexa jumps down unassisted and Clarke folds her hand and places it in her pocket, willing her cheeks not to blush and betray her.

Lincoln, Indra, and Anya all board the Ark. Raven grumbles behind Clarke, but stops at the glare she receives.

“Welcome to the Ark.”

“How quaint.” Anya’s voice is biting, her familiar sneer set firmly on her disinterested face.

“Anya,” Lexa scolds her quietly, but it’s loud enough for both Clarke and Anya to hear her. Anya rolls her eyes and crosses her arms like a petulant child, but says nothing further.

“Alright, I guess we’ll go down to the galley to discuss this information. Raven, Octavia, you should join us.”

“You got it, Cap.”

Clarke leads the strange band of assorted crew members behind her down to the galley. It’s empty and she pulls the basket of potatoes off the table and sets it to the side as everyone takes their seats.

Lexa is the last to arrive and stands beside Clarke who struggles not to find amusement at the confused faces before her. She looks at Clarke and waits for her to begin.

“I’m assuming you’re all wondering why you’re here. My crew is aware that we are on the hunt for something… specific. We’ve been combing these waters for months in hopes of catching a break.”

“Why does that include us, Griffin?” Anya’s voice bites again. Clarke can feel Lexa’s glare radiate off of her.

“Your Commander and I are in search of the same thing.”

Clarke pauses to let her words sink in. Lexa shuffles beside her. “There is a reason we haven’t been able to sail anywhere without the Ark around us, why we haven’t been able to shake Roan off our tail either. We are all in need of the final corner of a specific map.”

“If we all need the map, why are you here on our ship?” Raven chirps up next, defiant. Disbelieving.

“The Commander and I have decided to join forces to continue our search.” Clarke’s answer is for the room, but her harsh tone is directed at Raven.

“Clarke-”

“Reyes, if I wanted your opinion I would have asked for it.”

Lexa clears her throat to break the tension, “It will be easier to accomplish our goal if we work together. The trouble we face will be unlike anything any of us has seen before… more swords in the fight will only make us stronger.”

“Yeah, except I don’t see either one of you telling us what our goal is.”

This time Lexa answers Raven. “Do you trust your Captain, Reyes?” Raven nods and Lexa continues, “Would you follow her anywhere? Even if it meant sinking into the depths below us?”

Raven nods again, opens her mouth to say something but thinks better of it.

“Then you know all you need to know.”

“Commander, are you sure this is the course we should be taking?”

“Yes, Indra.”

“Commander-”

“Shut up, Indra.” Lexa’s voice is harsh. The one Clarke is used to hearing in the melee.  

When no one says another word, Lexa steps forward and places her hands on the table. “I have been lucky to sail with this crew, on that ship, under the black, for years now. Lucky that I haven’t been caught. Lucky that I’ve been successful. Lucky that I’ve been able to feel the sea spray on my face. Every day I wake up with the knowledge that this could be my last day walking this earth. Every day I look at those who choose to follow me and I weigh their souls with my decisions. Nothing comes easily. But we all know what is at stake here, we always have. If you would like to back out now, be my guest. We can drop you off at the next port and you can find a warm bed or another captain to sail for.”

Everyone settles.

Clarke clears her throat, “Would anyone else care to voice their displeasure or can we proceed?”

Lexa stands and straightens herself again, stepping back to Clarke. “I think it’s time to share what Lincoln found today.”

“I’m all ears, Commander.”

“Lincoln was sent to shore before dawn to scout for us. Whispers of rumors have placed the missing piece of the map inside a cave here. We landed on this small island before, but were never able to find the entrance.”

“Because it wasn’t a full moon.” Clarke finishes for her.

Lexa nods, “Because it wasn’t a full moon. The legend is correct.”

“Wait, you came here but you hadn’t heard the legend before?” Clarke can’t keep the skepticism from her voice… knowing Lexa’s prowess, her reputation.

“I was unaware that the two were connected. A mistake I will not make again.”

Clarke smiles, “Good thing we’re working together, Commander. I seem to make those connections you can’t.”

Indra bristles at the table at Clarke’s teasing.

“Cap, are you telling me you’re talking about the legend of the man who wanted to live forever?”

“I am, Octavia.”

“And we’re looking for a map that connects us to the crazy soul who wanted that?”

“We could be, yes.”

“Clarke,” Lexa pulls her attention away from Octavia. Away from sharing what she does not want to. Not yet.

“Commander,”

Lexa takes a deep breath after studying Clarke’s face. Silent agreement written in her eyes. “Captain Griffin and I have both been approached by someone who is interested in completing the map.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true, Raven.” Clarke nods, the coin her pocket heavy, burning. “The meeting I had at port was to confirm.”

Clarke allows Raven to assess the weight of her words. Judge the lies she knows are hidden between them. Raven always knows.

“Ok, Cap.” Her words sound like agreement to everyone in the room. Everyone but Clarke. “Commander, when do we leave for shore?”

“Dusk.” Lexa’s voice is heavy, solemn. It sends a shiver down Clarke’s spine that she tries to ignore.

The rum that’s made its way through her veins won’t allow it.

She clears her throat and looks up at her two friends, the two people she wouldn’t have made it this far without. “It’s settled.”


	7. VII

Clarke paces the length of the large room, her boots echoing on the wood underneath her with a purposeful staccato. She chews her lip, fingers the small coin in her pocket.

It hasn’t really left her hand since this morning.

The maps are spread all over Lexa’s giant desk. They retreated to her quarters after meeting with the crews to go over the plan, leaving skeptical gazes and maddening questions behind. To assess the maps. To talk openly about the truth of their mission.

The Commander faded away as soon as they were back on board the _Steltrona_ , back inside her home. The hat came off braided waves and was unceremoniously plopped on the edge of the bed covered in lush furs. Clarke averted her gaze from the bed, but not before her cheeks warmed with something other than alcohol.

Lexa unraveled her maps, propped them on the desk with knives, figures, stones. All mystical and different in their own right. Clarke picked a few up, studied them, ran her fingers over carved handles and smooth onyx. Every piece of Lexa here for viewing presented new information about the secretive woman. New layers. New conundrums.

A small girl knocks timidly after a while, brings them plates of food and ale. Lexa smiles genuinely at the girl, but it’s reserved and small. Clarke notices how different it is from the one she’s already used to seeing on Lexa.

The one she didn’t realize was different until just now.

They eat and they drink in relative silence around a small table that sits between the bed and the desk. Clarke feels Lexa’s eyes on her more than once through the meal, but whenever she looks up, Lexa is looking elsewhere.

Words fight to fly from her tongue. Flirty words. Words of intention. Words of desire.

But this moment feels too heavy, too real. Filled with something else.

Filled with mystical stories and danger that await them when the sun sets.

Filled with something bigger, greater.

Filled with high stakes.

Lexa answers her questions quietly, her voice soft and soothing with the gentle waves under the boat.

Clarke notices the way she absorbs each question, thinks about each answer as if the words will be written in stone to be memorized by all who come after them.

They are given weight.

Meaning.

It fills Clarke’s belly more than the food before her.

Lexa struggles to fight a yawn, and Clarke smiles. She swallows the last bit of ale in her mug and sets it down. “You can rest, I’ll go back to the Ark.”

“And leave the maps? What will you fret over then, Griff?”

Clarke’s smile grows, “I’m sure I’ll think of something. I’ve occupied your time for far too long. We have a big night ahead of us.”

Lexa turns and catches Clarke off guard with the deep look in her eyes.  “You may stay here, Clarke.”

“Lexa, I-”

“I have more detailed maps than you,” Lexa cuts her off, “I’ve been hunting this thing longer than you have. It makes sense.”

“You should sleep.”

“Who says I won’t?” Lexa’s lips tilt up with the hint of a smile.

It’s… new.

Different.

The trust that spans between the two born only hours ago and yet strengthening by the second.

“Are you sure? This seems unnecessary…”

Lexa stands and brushes crumbs off her pants, sliding her feet out of her boots. “I would not have offered otherwise, Clarke.”

It’s the second time that she uses Clarke’s name in conversation and Clarke can’t help but love the way it rolls from her lips. Solid and steady.

It makes her feel warm. Safe.

She tries to push the feeling away, out of her mind. But it grabs hold.

“Very well, then. I’ll keep working the angle and you can rest.”

Lexa nods and steps to her bed, sliding her unbuckled coat from her arms and throwing it over her now vacant chair. The buckles and buttons chime as it settles against the wood. “You might want to look at the blue journal on the shelf behind the desk. I think you’ll find some interesting reading material in there.”

“Have you been holding out on me all this time?” Clarke feigns annoyance, fights the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips.

“Always, Griff. Always.”

**Xx**

Clarke pours through the journal Lexa suggested, the pages filled with drawings and maps, captain’s notes and logs, rantings of a drunken fool.

It’s a mess.

It could easily be dismissed as the work of a lunatic. But, Clarke sees the truth heavily inked into the paper.

The legend she’s chasing unfolding before her, as real as anything.

She loses herself in the pages, the sun drifting from one side of the cabin to the other, all while Lexa sleeps soundly on the bed. Her soft breaths and hums breaking the silence every so often, breaking Clarke’s concentration.

When she finally hazards a look up at the bed, she finds Lexa. Relaxed, soft, beautiful, her face as clean and as devoid of emotion as she’s ever seen it.

She looks so young, so small.

So unlike the fierce rival Clarke has faced so many times.

It strikes something inside of her. Something she struggles to swallow.

She forces her eyes back to the journal, running her hands over the pages. The scratches of the quill evident, the writing furious and fast.

The story playing out over and over in her head, pieces of the puzzle coming together in ways she would have never imagined.

Lexa’s quiet sigh echoing around the cabin like a scream.

**Xx**

A gentle nudge against her shoulder startles her. She jumps up and lifts her head off her hand, wipes the drool that accumulated there, willing her heart to stop racing. The sun blinding from one end of the window as it begins it’s descent into the ocean.

Lexa lets a low chuckle loose, her face painted with amusement. “Good nap?”

Clarke wipes her eyes and stretches, foregoing the question for another. “Who wrote this?”

Lexa’s eyes darken and a subtle seriousness sets into her features again. Clarke would have missed it, would have easily seen it as the face she was so used to, if not for the calm, unburdened look Lexa wore during sleep.

“The first Commander.”

Clarke nods, “Why is the Captain of the _Steltrona_ always called Commander?”

Lexa’s eyes spark with life again, she steps away from Clarke and pours herself some ale from the pitcher on the table. “Well, I can’t go giving you all my secrets now, can I?”

Clarke scoffs and flips back to the page that struck her the most. The language foreign and strange to her eyes.

“Do you know what this means?”

She holds it up for Lexa to see. Lexa grabs the book gently from her hands and places it on the table. “Yes.”

“Well?”

“Clarke,”

“Ah, so this is another one of your secrets?”

“Yes.”

Lexa turns back towards the window and stares straight ahead and Clarke knows the conversation is over. Even in their new found partnership, Lexa remains as perplexing as always.

Clarke stretches as she stands and moves to the table to pick on the fruit left from their earlier meal. She knows Lexa is watching again, studying. Can feel it in the quiet of the room. In the heaviness that seeps into the air.

Except this time when she looks up, Lexa does not shy away.

Holds her gaze.

Her eyes a litany of emotions.

The silence between them stretches for moments, hours. Becomes palpable with each breath.

Clarke wants to move. To step closer to this enigma before her. This creature who is ever changing like the sea yet as steady as the tide.

She doesn’t. Her feet stay nailed to the floor. Her heart pounds in her ears and she can’t breathe and she wants to move, aches to.

A trill of knocks against the door breaks her from the trance. Lexa dips her head and clears her throat, her ears burning red. Clarke wishes she didn’t see it, but it makes the ache in her body grow.  She turns and faces the window, putting another piece of fruit in her mouth, the bright acidity stinging her tongue.

“Enter.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Commander but we are preparing the boats to head to shore.”

“Very well, Indra.”

“Do we have a final course of action?”

Out of her periphery, Clarke sees Lexa glance her way. She nods her head slightly and watches Lexa stand straighter.

“We do.”

“When shall we prepare the crews?”

“Soon, Indra.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Indra leaves and closes the door quietly behind her. Clarke takes a deep breath, Lexa’s boots thud against the floor.

“Shall we go over the plan again?” Clarke moves back to the maps, the bronze pieces atop them marking movements etched into her memory.

“The plan has been set for hours, Clarke. Worry will do no good.” Lexa joins her, glances down at the work before them.

“What if Lincoln can’t get the door open? What if there’s something we’re not seeing?”

“Tiring yourself with questions already asked and answered is useless. Do not waste your energy.”

“But, what if-”

“Plans don’t last long in battle, Clarke. You know this.”

Clarke takes a deep, steadying breath and feels the calmness of Lexa’s presence beside her. New and not unwelcome.

“I’ve never been so close to something this big before.” Clarke finally lets the realization fall from her lips.

Lexa takes a half step closer and Clarke looks up, almost staggering under the weight of Lexa’s heavy gaze. Watches as green eyes flit to her lips and back up to her eyes. Secrets hiding within, waiting for Clarke to find.

“Neither have I.”

It’s a whisper. Clarke feels it hot against her skin.

  
  
  
  



	8. VIII

The sound of the oars moving methodically, quietly, through the gentle waves to shore usually calms Clarke.

The tempo, the rhythm, the push-pull one of the things she loves most about life on the water.

But she can’t focus on it tonight.

Can’t focus on the way the moon already looks big and bright in the sky even though the sun just set moments ago.

Can’t focus on the serious faces of her crew, how they keep stock of their weapons as they head to unknown dangers on the sand.

Clarke can’t focus on anything but the way Lexa’s breath felt against her cheek.

How dark and deep her eyes looked as they locked onto Clarke’s lips.

The way her hand landed on Clarke’s neck, pulling her closer, closer.

Clarke didn’t want to shut her eyes, wanted to feel every precious second of tension before Lexa’s lips were on hers.

But it never happened.

Loud calls from the crew and pounding on the door startled Lexa so much she jumped away from Clarke like she was an open flame. Her gaze on the ground at her feet like a scorned puppy, her cheeks red and hot, her hands fidgeting at her side.

Heart pounding in her ears and her legs shakier than she’d like to admit, Clarke stepped back from the desk. “I should,” she cleared her throat, “I should go ready my crew.”

Lexa nodded, still not looking up from her feet. Skittish and shy and so unlike the stoic Commander of lore. Clarke wanted to reach out, grab her hand, reassure her she wasn’t wrong. Instead, she moved to the door and let it click shut behind her.

Once outside of the cabin, she took a deep breath wondering where the turn happened, how the tide changed so quickly.

Sitting calmly in the rowboat she can feel Lexa’s presence from across the water, strong and steady. Burning. She feels bound to Lexa in a way that frightens her. When Lexa’s rowboat appeared from behind the _Steltrona_ , Clarke was struck with how truly magnificent she looked. Hair wild in the twilight, the black war paint fresh and dewy on her face. Her eyes alive with fire, with war.

Clarke struggled to breathe.

Felt herself staring.

That feeling lodged itself in her stomach and won’t budge.

Octavia asks her questions, hushed under the sound of the waves. She nods and grunts out acceptable answers.

Her attention not wavering from anything related to Lexa until Octavia reaches over and pulls her own gun from the holster on her hips to check that it’s loaded.

“ _Blake_.”

“I asked you three times if you were ready, Griff. Get your head in the damn game.”

Octavia doesn’t falter under Clarke’s glare, but releases the gun and places it back in her waiting hand.

**Xx**

By the time they reach the shore, Clarke can think of nothing but the mission at hand. Murphy pulls the boat from the water quietly and they hide under the tree line until Lexa’s crew does the same.

Lexa’s eyes are still wild when they approach, her hand gripping her sword.

“Ready?”

“We’re ready, Commander.”

Lexa nudges her head towards Indra and Octavia, “You two go around the other way, make sure we don’t have any visitors.”

Octavia nods at Clarke before following Indra further into the trees. Indra’s disappointment with her partner more than apparent.

“Clarke?”

The way her name rolls off of Lexa’s lips again jolts her. “Commander.”

“We must move if we’re going to make it before the moon peaks.”

Clarke turns to Lincoln, “Lead the way.”

**Xx**

The light of the moon is bright enough to guide them through the trees on the small island. It feels like an eternity passes before Lincoln signals them to stop.

An eternity because Clarke holds her breath the whole time. Sharing small glances with Lexa.

Lexa who remains aloof.

Lexa who moves aside to let Clarke step over every obstacle that crosses their path first.

Lexa whose eyes pop in the moonlight beneath her mask. The ones that still dance with adventure and thrill.

The ones who, when they meet her own, flash with something else.

They don’t speak.

The only sounds between the group are their soft footfalls, the heavy breathing of hikers, little clangs and pings of metal, buttons.

Lincoln slows when they bend through the trees into a small clearing facing a cliff. “We’re here.”

Lexa nods and moves towards Lincoln. “Where is the entrance?”

Lincoln pulls aside vines that have grown over rock, brushing against the moss and dirt etched into the face. The moonlight highlighting the symbol, the same symbol on the coins.

“Is that?” Clarke’s voice is an excited whisper, adrenaline flooding her veins. It’s all real. All true. Every word of it.

“Yes.” Lexa turns and meets her eyes, her voice carrying the same excitement, rush.

“How do we get in?” Clarke steps forward and examines the rock face beneath Lincoln’s hands. “You said there was a key, I don’t see anything here, it’s just blank rock.”

“Clarke,” The look in her eyes is the same one from the cabin, the same one begging Clarke to stop asking questions, to trust.

Clarke takes a breath and steps back.

There is a noise in the trees behind them and a familiar whistle calls out before Octavia and Indra step into the light.

“Was there any trouble?” Lexa’s voice cuts through the quiet, forces Indra’s attention off the rock wall and towards the group.

“None, Commander. It was clear all the way here.”

“Anya, Murphy, you two should stay here to keep watch.”

“Commander, I was supposed to go in with you.” Anya fights it, her body tense.

“I’ve changed my mind, I want you here.”

There’s a moment that passes between them. A silent war until Anya relents and backs away, slouching against a tree with a frown.

Lexa grabs the chain around her neck, pulling it from beneath her shirt. Clarke’s eyes follow her hands, watch as charms appear between cleavage. Lust settles low in her belly, warm and alive.

Lexa’s eyes meet her own, almost gray in the moonlight and sparkling with amusement.

Clarke struggles to swallow, her mouth dry. She shakes her head and pulls her eyes off of the Commander and back to the rock. She glances over the etching again, steps forward to touch it. The edges still sharp, not dulled by time or weather.

She doesn’t hear Lexa close the distance between them, startled by the hand that reaches out and brushes her own off the rock. “Clarke.”

Lexa’s voice is so soft, so quiet, it is meant only for her. She moves her hand and takes a deep breath as Lexa grabs the little gear on her necklace and pauses. When Clarke looks up, Lexa is watching her. Waiting for her.

“I’m ready.” It’s a whisper in the night. The sounds of the trees, of the air, louder than her own voice.

Lexa holds her gaze for a breath longer, before taking the gear and moving it towards the middle of the symbol where the lines converge. She slides it inside an opening that Clarke does not see, a click sounding deep within the rock.

She turns and leans her shoulder into it, trying to push it back but it doesn’t move. She readjusts her stance and pushes harder, the rock still not moving. Clarke hears her growl, low in her throat and joins her. Putting both hands on the rock face and pushing, her boots slipping on the dirt beneath them.

It takes a moment, and another large push from both together, before the rock gives way, the door sliding open with an ominous sound.

“See,” Lexa’s eyes are bright with the small victory, “We didn’t even need Lincoln to get the door open.”

Clarke feels a blush bloom on her cheeks and rolls her eyes. Lexa readjusts her hat, her sword.

“Alright, this is what we’ve been waiting for.” With one last glance at Clarke, Lexa turns and disappears through the open door.


	9. IX

The cave is cool and damp when Clarke steps across the threshold. There is an ethereal sort of glow lighting the tunnels. One that she did not expect, one that seems mystical and otherworldly. She can see Lexa a few paces ahead of her, moving like a cat in the night deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Clarke quickens her step and catches up, falling in line behind Lexa's steady footfalls, her assured path through the cave. She almost steps on the back of Lexa's boot and garners a half smirk in her direction.

Those eyes,

Those eyes are almost silver in the light peering through unseen cracks above.

Like the moonlight that guided them through the trees.

Hypnotic.

Magnetic.

Glowing.

It startles Clarke, makes her heart jump start in her chest.

She looks more beautiful than ever and Clarke curses their near kiss.

"Clarke?" Lexa teases, the smirk climbing even higher on plump cheeks.

"Commander?"

"Scared of the dark?"

"Nope. Merely intrigued with the spectacle before me."

Her double meaning lands, Clarke takes note of the way Lexa's eyes flit down to her lips for the briefest of blinks.

She turns her attention forward again and keeps walking, though she allows Clarke to step next to her in the wide tunnel.

Loud footsteps of their crew follow them through the maze until Lexa stops and holds up her hand. The tunnel splits off into two distinct passageways, but Lexa does not look surprised. She nods her head at Lincoln. "Indra, Octavia, go with Lincoln. He knows what I seek. If you find it, do not do anything until you come and get me."

"Commander-" Indra starts, but swallows the rest of her words at the glare she receives.

Lexa stays rooted to the spot until the three of them can no longer be seen.

"What was that about?"

"It's nothing, Clarke."

"It seemed like something."

"These matters that don't concern you."

Clarke grabs her elbow and spins her around ready to unleash on the Commander until she sees the look on her face. Wide eyes threatening her to continue, asking her if she's thought her course of action through.

Clarke swallows her anger and waits a moment, Lexa's eyes never leaving hers. "This does concern me. We are working together now… we are partners, _Commander_."

Lexa's eyes flicker with something unreadable at the tone, but she takes a deep breath and moves closer to Clarke. "Do you trust me?"

Her voice is so clear, so quiet and soft that Clarke doesn't know how to respond. Can't think about what it all means. Waits longer than necessary to slowly nod her head. " _That_ didn't concern _this_. It has been going on long before this mission and will continue long after. Please, put it from your mind, Clarke."

"Lexa,"

"Please, Clarke." Her voice cracks on her words, her plea.

"Ok." She lets go of Lexa's hand and follows her lead, choosing to trust the surly enigma at her side.

They walk in silence for long moments, a weird tension between them. Clarke opens her mouth more than once to break through it, to ease it. But doesn't. Can't seem to find the right words, can't seem to get the look Lexa gave her out of her mind. Instead she clenches her fists and continues on, anxiety and curiosity building.

So distracted by her thoughts and what could be waiting for them at the end of the tunnel, she fails to step around a large rock and trips. Momentum carrying her quickly to the dirt below, until she's yanked back up and steadied by a strong hand.

"Gotta look out for those rocks, Griff. They like to jump out at you." Lexa's smirk is back, easing everything else away.

"Thanks," Clarke readjusts her jacket, her hat, and tries not to turn bright red with the embarrassment she cannot hide. She simply stares at Lexa… entranced by her eyes against the war paint, how they still glow even in shadows. Feels pulled to her by something inside, a hook yanking and yanking. Lexa doesn't step back, doesn't move away. Her hand still gripping Clarke fiercely, as if she'll fall again if it's removed.

It feels like an eternity that stretches between them.

Eyes hooded and roving.

Lips parted.

Until finally, Clarke dips forward and kisses her, brushes her lips gently over the plush, open ones before her. Softly. Reverently. So unlike any other kiss she's ever had.

Full of feeling and something else entirely.

Lexa gasps quietly against her. Hand tightening even more. Her body taut, shocked.

Becomes a scared, shaking thing against her.

Clarke worries for a breath, a second.

And then Lexa relaxes into it.

Her lips soften, kiss back.

A free hand migrates to Clarke's cheek, holding her close, close.

Lexa adjusts, moves, changes the kiss and Clarke sighs.

Becomes sturdy and steadfast, sure of what's happening between them. Of what Clarke started.

When she finally pulls away to breathe, Clarke follows her lips. Not ready to stop, not ready to do anything else, map be damned.

Lexa places a soft kiss on her forehead, a silent request. Clarke takes a deep breath and tries to quell the pounding of her heart.

Xx

They don't speak.

They share a strange, new smile between them and keep walking. The tunnel rising up before them, the incline bearable but tiring.

There's a crest and then a cavern, the moon shining full and bright through a hole above onto a plain wooden box. Simple. Unassuming.

"Is that?"

"I don't know."

Lexa steps forward tentatively, walks around the ledge holding the box and studies it.

"I don't think it's booby trapped, Lexa."

Clarke blushes at the look Lexa shoots over her shoulder, heat flooding through her. Their kiss still wet on her lips.

Lexa unsheathes the dagger from her leg cuff and uses the blade to tap the box.

"Seriously? I thought you were the big, bad Commander? Open the damn box already!"

Another glare, but Clarke holds her own this time, crossing her arms in front of her and cocking her hip. The look the one she's so used to seeing on the normally unflappable woman before her. The one who was not so moments ago.

Lexa places the knife between her teeth and reaches out to grab the box, feeling her way around it. She picks it up and something shudders under Clarke's feet.

"What the…"

Dust rattles around them, rocks groaning and shifting in the cavern.

"Lexa-"

"Run!"

Lexa grabs the box and pulls Clarke behind her as they set off at a run down the incline and back into the tunnel, the walls screaming in agony around them.

"The crew!"

"They'll hear it… we just have to hope they get out. We have to hope we get out, come on, _move it, Griffin_!"

They run, moving and dodging, rocks and ash fall around them but they say ahead of it. A large boulder leaps off the wall towards Lexa's head but Clarke pulls her arm and they slam into each other as it lands on the ground. Lexa rights herself and picks up the pace, not letting go of Clarke's hand.

Not letting go of the box.

Running and running and running, leaping and jumping, not chancing any glances behind them as they move. The door at the entrance of the cave looming bigger and bigger with each step.

Clarke's lungs burn, her legs ache. Icy fear won't let go as she pushes and pushes to make it out.

To make it out with Lexa.

The walls start closing in around them, faster and faster, the foundations of the cave nonexistent.

Clarke looks at Lexa and sees raw determination on her face as she begins running faster. They near the door when the rocks start pouring down in front of them.

"We have to jump."

Clarke nods and squeezes Lexa's hand, no breath in her body to waste on words.

"Alright, _now!_ "

Clarke pushes off with all her might and flings herself towards the entrance, landing with a hard thud and a face full of dirt outside the cave as it collapses.

Lungs heaving she rests her cheek on the cold ground and tries to catch her breath. Lexa's rasps beside her loud and heavy in her ears.

"Captain, Commander, good of you to join us."

"Fuck off, Anya." Lexa bites back.

Clarke flips herself over to get fresh air in her lungs not tainted by dirt and looks at the faces staring down at them, all smirking and incredulous.

She lands on Octavia and breathes another sigh of relief. "You guys-" a gasp, "made it…"

"Our tunnel came up at a dead end, Cap. We just got back out here when we heard everything start going to shit.

"Commander is that?" Indra holds a hand out for Lexa to pull her up. Lexa accepts it and is yanked to her feet, her face sweaty and red, her breath still short.

She nods and reaches down to Clarke.

Clarke doesn't hesitate as Lexa's strong hand helps guide her to her feet. Octavia pats her on the back and Murphy just rolls his eyes.

"Always gotta keep the fun for yourself…"

"Next time I'll send you in, Murph. That way if you get trapped inside a collapsing cave, I won't have to listen to your whining."

"Whatever." He shrugs her off and crosses his arms.

"We should get back to the ships, we don't have long now."

"Right." Lexa sounds steadier. She picks her hat up off the ground and puts it on, her eyes sliding to Clarke.

"Can't go back in there anyway, so let's hope we got the right thing, yeah?" Clarke fans her face with her hat. "Anyone have any water left?"

Lincoln laughs as he hands over a canteen before walking away and finding the trail through trees. Clarke takes a hearty gulp and passes it to Lexa, without looking. They fall in line and bring up the rear, sharing the water between them.

The box still tucked under the Commander's arm.


	10. X

The ride back to the boat is even tenser than the one to the island for Clarke. **  
**

She sits on the small bench next to Lexa.

Close.

So close.

She can feel Lexa’s heat, Lexa’s steady breathing syncing with her own. Lexa’s excitement and anxiety as she grips the wooden box in her hands on her lap.

The rest of their crews are in the other boat.

They sit in this one alone, with Lincoln rowing them back to the shore, steady and strong. His quiet presence is soothing in a way Clarke never would have imagined it to be just by looking at him. He is gentle and sure and loyal and Clarke understands why he is always by Lexa’s side.

Her cheeks bloom with a blush as she feels Lexa’s eyes land on her. They haven’t spoken since they got into the boat. Haven’t spoken since they left the cave.

It’s torture being here in this small boat with her. No space exists between them.

Clarke hears herself swallow, flexes her hands on her thighs to keep from grabbing Lexa’s face and kissing her again.

She longs to hear that small little whine from the back of Lexa’s throat. Longs to feel the full lips press against hers. The hands weaving into her hair.

It’s thrilling to remember and she can think of nothing else. Not even that damn map that sits encased in wood on Lexa’s legs.

She tries to focus on other things. Turns her head to look at the boat moving smoothly through the water next to theirs, almost laughs at the grumpy look on Anya’s face as she sits across from Octavia. Her eyes move across the water that sits like glass the farther out they get towards the ships. Some other force of nature stilling it, mirroring the full moon’s image with barely a ripple.

Clarke loses herself in thought, remembering the otherworldly essence of the cave, the thrill she got walking in. It all feels bigger than her, bigger than it should.

Lexa’s knee knocks against hers and pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn’t shift away, but keeps it next to Clarke’s. When Clarke finally slides her eyes over, she finds the hint of a smirk on the rounded cheeks next to her.

Her heart flutters wildly in her chest, unwilling to be quelled.

Her body floods with warmth at the contact. So small, so simple, through layers of clothing and yet, so huge in the span of their interactions with each other.

Her blush burns again in her cheeks and she wonders if Lexa can feel it.

Xx

Lincoln guides the boat stealthily up to the _Steltrona_ , nodding at his Commander as she begins climbing the ladder up to the deck of her ship. She gets halfway up before looking back at Clarke, stopping and leaning over the boat.

“Clarke?” She nudges her head for Clarke to follow suit.

“Oh, you want me up there?” Clarke can’t help but grin.

She nods once and continues her climb. Clarke grabs the rope ladder and steps quickly and assuredly rung to rung, the view above her too irresistible to look away from. Lexa’s smirk is firmly in place when Clarke’s feet land on the black deck of the _Steltrona_ , her eyes blaze with something before she pulls her Commander mask back on.

She walks away, towards the stairs and the lower deck. Clarke waits a beat before following suit, watching Anya and Murphy begin climbing up from the other boat.

The door to Lexa’s quarters is open and she stands at her desk staring at the plain box. She locks on Clarke as soon as she crosses the threshold, her voice silently asking Clarke to shut the door.

“Why aren’t we waiting for the others?”

“Clarke,”

“Does this involve more of your secrets, Commander?” Clarke means for it to come out light, teasing in a way but it sounds more serious than she intends.

“Yes.”

“Lexa…”

“You know what you need to Clarke. If there comes a time when you need to know more, you will. Please.” Her voice is achingly quiet and serious. Clarke swallows her questions and nods, pulling the hat off her head and stepping up towards the desk without another word.

They both stand looking at the closed box. The box they almost died to retrieve. The box that could lead them to greatness or madness.

Lexa has made no move to open it. Clarke listens as more boots sound along the hallway outside.

“Lexa-”

“I know. Lincoln won’t let them come in.”

They stand quietly for another long moment as muffled voices and steps move farther away again.

They are alone.

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not,” Lexa says sternly.

“Well, could have fooled me.” Clarke tries to lighten the mood again.

Lexa takes a deep breath. “It’s not nerves it’s… This is where it begins. This is where the ball starts rolling uncontrollably, when the tide turns and sweeps us out. _Everything_ changes from this point on, Clarke.”

Clarke rests a hand on Lexa’s elbow and draws her attention away from the box, “So let it.”

Lexa’s eyes change with the double meaning of Clarke’s words. Flit down to her lips for just a second, a breath before she meets Clarke’s again. Clear and green and just as haunting as ever.

“Open it with me?” Her voice is a cracked whisper, full of more soft emotion than Clarke has ever heard from her.

“Of course.” She smiles and watches as Lexa’s shoulders relax just the slightest bit.

Lexa slides the same charm she used on the cave into the lock on the front and waits for a click. It’s faint and they almost miss it with the waves and the groaning wood of the ship around them, but Lexa must feel it.  She waits for Clarke to look at her again before she gives a slight nod and they both lift the lid.

“Are you telling me I wouldn’t have been able to open this without you?” Clarke whispers, annoyed and amused and not entirely believing her circumstances.

“I’m sure you would have figured something out, Clarke.” She says it with the slightest grin and Clarke’s belly flips pleasantly. It hasn’t gone unnoticed how many times Lexa has used her name. How softly she always seems to say it. How the formalities of the past have slipped away from them.

They both lift the lid and find a small, ravaged, corner of paper sitting alone at the bottom. It’s soft with wear and age and Clarke is almost afraid to touch it. Almost afraid that if they do, it will shrivel up into dust and blow away.

Lexa reaches in and pulls it from the bottom with slow, careful movements. She places it on the desk and studies it. There’s nothing on the front, and upon examination, nothing on the back either.

“Oh…”

“Fuck. _Fuck!_ I did not almost just let myself get smothered in a collapsing cave for a blank piece of paper.”

Lexa’s brow furrows as she leans closer to the paper studying it, sniffing it, turning it over again and again.

“Lexa, there’s nothing there.”

She stands and looks at Clarke point blank again, steps closer to her and holds on to her confusion with a steady belief. “Do you trust me?”

“Are you going to ask me this every hour?”

“Yes.”

Lexa waits for an answer, and Clarke sighs around a yes.

Her eyes rove all over Clarke’s face for an eternity before she pulls herself away and back to the paper on her desk. Her long fingers reach down and unsheathe the dagger from her thigh, bringing it up to the table.

When she looks up her face is dark and conflicted. “It is time for me to trust _you_ now.” She pricks her pinky finger with the dagger and Clarke watches as dark blood bubbles to the surface.

Dark, so dark.

Lexa pushes against her finger, causing more to ooze from the small wound.

_Black_.

So black.

Clarke gasps and finds Lexa already looking at her with open eyes and a softness that makes her almost gasp again, makes her heart swoop into her stomach.

“Are you?”

Lexa’s answer never comes, the conversation cut off by a loud cannon blast and the splash of water as the ball misses the intended target.


	11. XI

Lexa freezes before her, body rigid and tense. Her senses heightened to understand what the situation at hand may be. Clarke can see the fight pull into her muscles, her face.

Another loud blast sounds out the windows and thuds into the water, closer and louder than before.

She rushes to the window and peers out.

“Lexa?”

“It’s Roan,” she growls.

She spins around, her eyes wide and wild, her brain moving a mile a minute. She picks the corner of the map off the desk, slamming the box closed and locked again, throwing it off to the side. She folds the map carefully and opens her compass, tucking it safely away in there before clicking it shut.

“We have to move, Clarke.”

“Move?”

“Yes. Before there’s no time.”

“ _Lexa_ ,” Clarke grabs Lexa’s elbow and pulls her back, “we can’t leave, what are you talking about?”

“We have to. Roan wants this map. He won’t stop. We have to leave the ship, let them fight it out.”

“You want to just abandon the crews? Just like that? The people who’ve sworn to fight for us.”

“Yes.” Lexa glares at her, daring Clarke to test her seriousness.

“No.” Clarke shakes her head and grips tighter onto Lexa’s elbow.

Lexa steps even closer, intense and almost feral. “Clarke, we _must_. This is bigger than the crews, than us. We cannot let Roan get this map.”

“It’s blank!”

Lexa takes a deep breath and rolls her eyes, willing herself patience as time runs out. Another cannon blast, more shouts from the crew ring above them.

“They’ll be here to get us soon, the crews… everyone. We have to move, Clarke. They’ll be fine without us and when the fight is over we will return. It’s the only way.”

Clarke feels her resolve waning. Her loyalty to her crew flares inside her chest but she can see something hidden behind Lexa’s eyes. Roan has been ruthless in his dogged pursuit of the map. She’s fought him off more times than she’d like to count. With so much within their grasp… The stakes are too high to risk it.

She takes a deep breath, “Ok. I trust you.”

Her feet feel heavy with every step through the quarters. Her heart tugging in her chest, fighting to stay and lead her crew. But she follows Lexa. Trusts her. Remembers the journal she looked through, the eerie glow in the cave, the black blood that runs through Lexa’s veins and she knows there’s no other option.

Xx

They slip back into the same row boat that brought them to the _Steltona_ not an hour before. Lexa rows silently as Clarke watches Roan’s ship approach closer and closer, the Ark taking fire and her crew screaming orders at each other.

It aches to watch from afar. But the _Steltrona’s_ canons add to the fray and Lexa nods once in her direction as she moves gently with the motion of the oars.

Her breathing is hardly labored when they make it to shore and pull the boat up into a hidden cove. Clarke takes one look at her and marvels at it. Not sweaty, not tired. Focused and tense as the fight explodes on the water away from them.

“I am sorry, Clarke, but you know how the _Azgeda_ are. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk you,” Lexa whispers into the dark.

Clarke’s stomach swoops and she gasps into the darkness, “Lexa…”

“You are a part of this now.” Her eyes are clear and honest and shy when they meet Clarke’s.

“I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”

Lexa’s throat bobs with a swallow, as if she’s holding back from saying more. “Thank you.”

They fall into a heavy silence, watching as Roan begins to back away, the fire from both ships too much for him to work against. Clarke sees Lexa’s hands ball into fists by her side as they wait for the shots to stop ringing loudly across the water.

And still they wait.

“It’s about more than that though.” Lexa breaks the quiet.

“Hmm?”

She looks down at her feet and Clarke sees the same flash of humanity she saw in the cave. “It’s about more than,” she clears her throat, “It’s about more than all of _this._ ”

Clarke hears her unsaid words, they hang their in the air between them sticking in the humidity. She feels that pull again, the one inside of her that tugs and tugs closer to Lexa. To everything that Lexa is. Her eyes land on lips again, chapped from the salt sea and so ready to be kissed. She moves closer, leans in and feels Lexa’s warmth, hears Lexa’s tiny breath, feels her hand move to Lexa’s cheek, the paint thick and dry on skin.

A loud, lone gunshot sounds across the water.

They both jump and step away from each other.

The noise of it shakes the lust off of Clarke. Replaces it with anxiety, anger. “We have to go back.”

Lexa transforms before her, the glimpse of the girl beneath the mask gone, the hardened Commander Clarke is so familiar with back in her place.

Xx

Clarke is reckless in her rush to step aboard the Ark again, almost slipping along the plank that leads between the two ships.

There doesn’t seem to be any damage from the canons that she can see in the dark and the crew is all working on cleaning up the deck. No one is bleeding or dead on the deck. Clarke spins looking for evidence of the gunshot.

“Clarke!” Raven jumps down from her spot at the wheel. “What the hell, where were you?”

Clarke sidesteps the question, “Is everyone alright?”

“We’re fine. I think he was just trying to scare us, the shots were all aimed poorly. The hull took a couple hits, but we’re still floating.”

“Raven, who fired that gunshot?”

“Octavia.”

“Why?”

“We captured one of his crew, she wasn’t on his ship during the attack, she climbed up from the water, grabbed Murphy from behind and held a knife to his throat. Octavia got her arm. She’s down in the hold.”

“Fuck.” Clarke burns with rage, with regret at leaving her crew behind. If anything had happened to them…

“Clarke…”

“Later, Raven.” Clarke steps away and checks in with her crew gets a full report of what happened and how the _Steltrona_ reacted. She’s pleased with the turn of events, the unlikely allies in the black ship that has always been competition for them.

She calls over to Lincoln, asking for Lexa to cross over to the Ark, waiting patiently under the still bright moon for the Commander. She’s almost silent as she slips onto the Ark, her presence felt more than heard as she steps next to Clarke.

“Clarke?”

“We’ve got one of Roan’s crew in the hold. Octavia shot her. She came up from the water, grabbed one of my men.”

Lexa’s eyes go wide, burn with vengeance. “Have you spoken with her yet?”

Clarke shakes her head, “I wanted to wait for you.”

“And you’re sure she’s alive?”

“Octavia knows she’s worth more that way.”

“Has anyone from your crew talked to her?”

“Not since we’ve been back.”

Lexa nods, her eyes still burning and her jaw tight. Clarke leads the way down to the hold, listening as Lexa’s steps follow her. It’s been a night of following each other through dark spaces, and Clarke never thought she would feels this comfortable in the Commander’s presence.

Octavia stands post outside the door, anger radiating off of her. Her back straightens when Clarke approaches and she bares her teeth. Clarke waits for her to unleash the anger she knows the crew feels at her abandonment, but Octavia’s eyes shift behind her and her face darkens. She takes a step back.

“Captain.”

“Octavia.” Clarke stares her down, the challenge dims. Octavia has always been strong willed, but she knows who leads the crew.

“She’s gagged. I wrapped her wound and tied her arms.”

“You did good work, Blake.”

“I know.”

Octavia shoves past them and back up the hallway. Clarke watches her stalk away, brooding and frustrated. Lexa’s face is a blank slate.

“Shall we?”


	12. XII

The hold is dark, dank. The only light coming from the open door.

The girl is tied and crouched against the wall in the corner. Her mouth gagged.

Clarke takes a step inside, the girl’s eyes flinch against the intruder, growing used to another being in the dark. Clarke spies the wound wrapped on her arm, the blotch of red blood, and a brief sense of pride rolls through her.

Octavia has always done well.

Clarke owes her so much more after this week of proving herself time and time again.

Lexa moves like a shadow next behind Clarke. Her steps light, dusting along the wood. Barely heard.

Clarke feels her. The way her body slinks. Her breath even and unrushed.

She is always so composed.

Always so other.

Clarke clears her throat and directs the prisoner’s attention towards her. Eyes burn with fire when they meet hers and the grimace of pain slithers into something else. Disdain. Anger.

Hatred.

“Thought it would be fun to fuck with my crew?”

She’s met only with a grunt.

“Octavia is the best shot I’ve ever seen, so I reckon you chose the wrong ship to board. Although, we all know the kind of mythos the _Steltrona_ has about it so, can’t blame you for being scared to go near that beaut.”

Lexa doesn’t react behind her and the prisoner doesn’t react in front of her. Clarke kneels down and pulls the gag from her mouth.

“Why are you here?”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks, I’m good. Pretty taken care of these days. You may have heard of my sparkling reputation.  That’s not to say you can’t stay here as long as you want but it gets pretty cold and lonely in this hold.”

“You know why I’m here.”

“Do I?”

Lexa shifts behind her and the girl’s eyes flit to her. She visibly stiffens.

“Scared of the big, bad Commander?” Clarke teases. Pokes at the brief break in the prisoner’s facade.

“You don’t know anything about her, do you?” She practically spits it out at Clarke, eyes never leaving Lexa’s form.

“You’re talking like someone who doesn’t care whether she lives or dies right now.”

“I’m dead already. There’s no going back for me, I’ve failed my mission. If I step foot back in Azgeda territory I’ll be killed. Why should I answer any of your questions?”

Clarke knows she’s not bluffing. Has heard rumors of the ruthlessness of the Azgeda, has seen Roan in action more than once.

“Suit yourself.”

Clarke moves to pull the gag back up and into the girl’s mouth but Lexa stops her, speaking for the first time.

“Wait.”

Clarke stands and steps back, allowing Lexa to move front and center.

“Nia has always had a flare for the dramatics. Such interesting messages she likes to send me. Too bad she’s not as formidable an opponent as she believes.”

Lexa’s voice is cool and commanding. Harsh.

“There was no need for you to involve the Ark, Echo. Did you think it would add to the suspense?”

“It was a warning.”

“You on the Ark is a warning? So, Nia had this planned so far in advance? Captain Griffin and I only just formed an alliance.”

“She has eyes everywhere.”

Lexa nods and smiles, “I’m counting on it. Her little birds are always so talkative, even when they don’t know what it is they’re chattering about.”

She kneels down and Echo’s back stiffens even more. Her eyes shifting between Lexa and Clarke for a second, before glaring at Lexa.

Clarke can see the fear in her stance, in her eyes, even in the dark.

“You will be delivered back to Nia, I’ll see to it. You can take back a message from me now.” Lexa leans in and whispers something into Echo’s ear. Clarke doesn’t hear a word of it, but Echo’s eyes widen even more before they settle into fine points, like daggers of ice.

Lexa stands and straightens her coat. She turns her attention back to Clarke, “Did you have anything else you wanted to ask our guest here, Captain?”

“Nope.”

“Very well. I’ll make sure she’s escorted from the Ark.”

“Pleasure meeting you, Echo. Octavia will be back to keep an eye on you. I’ll tell her not to get too handsy, but you know… she’s a bit of a rogue spirit. Those fists just tend to fly sometimes.

They don’t bother gagging her again. Clarke hopes her anger and anxiety gives way to more information.

They’re almost through the door again when her voice calls out.

“You should have heard the way she screamed.” Her voice is callous and vicious. Reveling in the violence of her words.

Lexa doesn’t stop. Doesn’t react. Only Clarke sees it. Sees her jaw tighten. Her eyes harden into flint.

She keeps walking up the hallway and onto the deck while Clarke pulls the door shut behind them. When she climbs the stairs, Lexa is already gone.

Xx

“Are we just going to wait here like sitting ducks, Cap?”

“We’re moving tonight, Reyes. I’m not sure where yet.”

“What have you and the Commander been planning then? This cove provides no cover. Roan could be back.” Raven follows her, not letting the conversation die. Not understanding the secrecy that’s popped up so suddenly between them.

“He won’t be.”

“You don’t know that.”

Clarke stares her down, steps into her space and glares. Raven doesn’t back down, meets the attitude with her own.

“ _Yes_. I do.” Clarke growls. Warning.

“This is some bullshit, Griff.”

“Reyes.”

Raven finally steps back and stalks away.

Xx

The _Steltrona_ is silent.

Clarke moves to Lexa’s quarters, expecting to find the Commander inside pouring over maps. Instead the door is open and the space is empty.

She hears quiet voices coming from the galley. The crew are all sitting around the table like they were on the Ark. Lexa’s voice is a fierce growl, begging anyone to disobey.

Indra’s eyes slide to Clarke.

“We have company.” She speaks over Lexa.

“Captain.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“We were just deciding where to move from here.”

“My crew was wondering that as well.”

“Our best bet is to move back to Trigeda, plot a course from there.”

“Commander, outsiders have never been allowed on Trigeda soil,” Indra barks.

“She’s right, Commander.” Clarke agrees with Indra, the discord among the crew more than apparent. “Polis is a neutral territory. Good for hiding and planning.”

“Polis is too close.”

“We both have friends in Polis. We will be left alone.”

The room lapses into a tense silence as Lexa weighs the options. It feels like it stretches for eternity. Indra’s eyes heavy between the two, unsettling something at the very core of Clarke.

“Polis it is then,” Lexa sighs.  She steps back from the table, “Ready the ship, we only have an hour before dawn.”

Xx

Clarke follows her to her quarters. Lexa’s shoulders tense and her manner unreadable.

“What was that about?”

“The crew likes to believe that if they complain enough I’ll listen. It hasn’t worked yet.”

“I’m not talking about your crew, Lexa.”

Lexa’s eyes flash with something dark and haunting. “That is a story for another night, Clarke.”

“Is this another one of your mystical secrets?”

She shakes her head, the exhaustion pouring off of her. “No. I will tell you. Just not tonight.”

Clarke swallows her argument. “Did you look at the map yet?”

“I have not. We should do so together.”

“I agree.” She shuffles towards Lexa’s desk.

“Clarke…” It’s pleading. So… different and human.

“Ok.” Clarke stops, fidgets in the center of the room, hearing the unspoken request. “We wait until Polis. I’ll ready my crew.”

Clarke wants to pull Lexa back into her space. Wrap her arms around the tight shoulders, offer Lexa some comfort. But she can’t make herself move. Doesn’t know how it will be received.

Instead, she offers her a soft good night and leaves Lexa to battle with her demons.

Her feet heavy, a tug in her stomach all the way back to the Ark.

Xx

They arrive in Polis before mid morning.

The _Steltrona_ already anchored. Clarke sees the boats rowing to shore as the crew readies around her.

“Are you sure this is the right thing to be doing?”

“I’m never sure, Blake.”

“Liar.”  Octavia teases and pats her shoulder, swinging herself down into the rowboat.

“Let’s get a move on, Cap. Plenty to do today.”

Xx

Lexa is waiting for her at the shore.

Stoic and tall by the dock, her chestnut hair billowing in the breeze, her hat in her hands down by her side.

She looks beautiful like this. The salt spray and the early morning sun alight on her face.

Clarke wants to kiss her.

Regrets not doing so last night.

Understands the barriers that still exist between them. So much unknown. About the past. About the future.

Lexa is a puzzle. A conundrum.

Something that Clarke should be running from.

But, she’s never been good at running from things that could kill her.

Instead she moves closer, the wood bowing and bending on the old, weathered dock under her feet. Lexa’s face doesn’t change but her eyes offer Clarke a smile.

“Captain.”

“Commander.”

“Let’s find somewhere to discuss this in private.”

“Aye.”


	13. XIII

The door to Lexa’s room swings open without warning, banging against the wall and startling both out of their hushed conversation. A bald man rushes in with haste, not seeing the occupants inside huddled over the desk before he starts speaking in a language Clarke has never heard spoken before.

Lexa clears her throat and stands proud and tall behind the table.

“Titus, I’ll ask you to speak the common tongue around Captain Griffin.”

His face blanches as he finally takes in his surroundings, discovers that Lexa is not alone in her quarters.

“I’m sorry, Commander. I did not realize you had company.”

“I do. Have you had the pleasure of meeting Captain Griffin?”

“No,” he shakes his head once, completely baffled by Clarke’s presence. “I’ve heard whispers. Your reputation precedes you, Captain.” He finally looks at Clarke, briefly.

She cannot help but feel judged immediately.

“All legends and tall tales, most like.” Clarke tries to joke, to relax. The tension in the room suddenly too much.

Lexa’s hands are folded behind her back and her stature demands respect. Titus folds his own in front of him, pious and wanting.

She simply waits for him to speak. To explain why he barged in so suddenly.

Clarke’s eyes flit between them, noticing how Titus seems to grow smaller by the second.

“Did you have news?”

“Yes,” he seems to break from his nerves. “I’ll wait until you’re alone.”

“Whatever news you have can be delivered before the Captain.”

His face grows red and he stutters for a moment before deciding on a response. “It is for your ears only, _Heda_.”

“Titus,” Lexa warns.

“It’s alright, I’ll make sure my crew is settled. If they don’t have spirits and food as soon as their feet hit solid ground they get cranky.” Clarke bows out of the room, wanting to know the news, but willing to trust Lexa for this moment.

They’ve barely begun to look at the map as a whole. Haven’t even pulled out the corner they found in the cave.

Clarke can read the heavy silence in the room better than anyone.

Lexa’s eyes follow her movements. A flicker of softness hidden there. Something private.

Like she is sad to see Clarke retreat.

Clarke closes the door and hears Titus’ booming voice immediately.

“Heda, you should _not_ have come here _together_.”

“There was nowhere else to go. The crew of the Ark are working with us now… they know. They’ve been hunting what we have for ages.” Lexa’s voice is calm and measured, as if she cannot be bothered by Titus or his dramatics.

“And that is exactly why they should not be here! Their presence on this island brings discussion and unwanted attention to our goal.”

“Polis has always been neutral territory. A trader’s port. Where else would you have us go?”

Clarke hears footsteps get closer to the door and retreats, walking quietly down the hallway not wanting to be caught. The conversation between the two quiets from frustrated words into something that no longer carries to eavesdropping ears.

With a sigh she finds her way to the bar and sits next to Octavia, taking a long swig from the other girl’s mug.

Xx

“I’ll tell you everything when I know it, Raven.”

“Bullshit.”

Raven settles herself next to Clarke. Her annoyance clear and her words stilted.

“Have I ever lied to you?” Clarke’s question comes out softer than she intends.

Raven swallows and shakes her head, “No.”

“Please, please, trust me.”

“I do trust you, Griff. I don’t trust her.”

“I know” Clarke pushes her plate away and turns to Raven. “But I need you to trust my judgment.”

Raven scoffs, “More than once, your judgment has been muddled by a pretty face.”

Clarke blushes, opens her mouth to reply but can’t find the right words.

“I see it. How you look at her, I see it. I’ve seen that look before and I know it can lead you past rational thought.”

“This is _all_ past rational thought now, Reyes.” Clarke finally bites back.

“You might be right, Cap. You might be right.”

They both pause for a moment, the truths sinking in.

“You’ve been with me the longest, been my right hand. I need you.”

“I’m here.”

“Are you? You question me at every turn, actively speak out. I cannot have my crew filled with doubt.”

“I’m here, Griff. I swear it.”

Xx

“I’m sorry about Titus.”

Lexa’s voice is soft and soothing. Clarke didn’t even hear her walk up behind her, but smiles into her ale nonetheless.

“Stick in the mud, that one.”

“Yes.” Lexa doesn’t deny it, but doesn’t sit either.

“How do you put up with him?”

“I must.”

“ _You?_ You _must_ _?_ You? The mythical _Commander?_ The captain of the scary, silent, black ship that flies over the seas? There is no must with you.”

“There are many things you do not know about me, Clarke.”

Lexa stays hidden in shadows behind Clarke, but she can hear the smile on the Commander’s face.

“And wouldn’t you know it, I just love secrets.”

Lexa lets out a deep breath, shuffles her feet.

“Are you going to stay in the shadows all night? We’ve already been seen together.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“There are things we must discuss in private.”

“Always trying to get me alone… Be careful, or I’ll start to think you like me.”

Lexa sighs behind her and Clarke smirks into her drink.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Enough to know that I’m annoying you.”

“Clarke, this is not the time.”

“Not the time to drink or to flirt? Because the way I see it, we just almost died in a magical, collapsing cave, got shot at by a rival captain and barely got our crews working together well enough to not mutiny. Sounds like the _perfect_ time to do both.”

“I suppose you have a point. But I’d much prefer to drink in my quarters.”

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Commander.”

Clarke downs the rest of her drink and sets the mug heavily on the table with a loud thud. Her feet wobble beneath her as she stands, but Lexa’s hand grips her elbow firmly, keeping her upright and pulling her close.

Clarke’s eyes travel down to the lips she kissed. The ones she has been thinking about kissing all day. All night. Since they stopped doing so in the first place.

“Not here.”

Lexa pulls her straighter and nods her head back to the staircase. She lets go of Clarke’s arm and disappears.

Clarke throws some coins on the table and waits a moment before stumbling along behind Lexa to the third floor.

Xx

Lexa is already seated at the small round table in her room when Clarke opens the door. The window is open enough for a small breeze to filter in off the sea.

“I just need to ask you something before we talk about the map.”

Lexa’s eyebrow tilts up, but she remains silent.

“You sail from Trigeda. Your crew, you… you’re Trigeda. So… why… I mean, Polis is neutral. We came here because it is _neutral_. But you have a room here and people here all look at you and listen to you and there are plenty of other captains here on this island but… _you_ … And then Titus?”

“Clarke,”

“No. Just answer.”

Lexa nods, gestures for Clarke to sit. Clarke obliges, only realizing upon standing how much she had to drink.

“Yes, I am Trigeda. But, Polis has been my home since I became Commander. I have not gone back there since…”

“And Titus? Does he run this island?”

“Yes. In my absence.”

“Do the people here know you run the island?”

“No. They only know me as you have known me. Commander.”

“Then why give him the power?”

“It is not without limitations. He is a figurehead of sorts.”

“A figurehead.”

“And advisor.”

“Why here?”

“Why not?”

“It’s a trading port. Ships and crews stop here from all over. Someone could find out.”

“All the better to glean information.” Lexa’s eyes sparkle with the secrets.

“I’ve never seen you or Titus any time I’ve come here with a full hold.”

“That is by design.”

“But… Trigeda?”

“Not everyone can know my secrets, Clarke. The Commander of the _Steltrona_ has always made a home here. Has always run Polis.”

Clarke’s head spins with the information the way her view of Lexa has shifted yet again.

“I think I drank too much.” She tries to stand to pour herself some water but trips forward and pitches herself onto the bed.

“Most likely.”

“How are you so calm all the time?”

“You should rest, Clarke.” Lexa stands and hovers near Clarke. Near Clarke as she settles even further onto Lexa’s bed.

“No, no, no, we have to look at the map… together….” Her eyes start closing of their own accord.

“Plenty of time to do that tomorrow.” Lexa pulls Clarke’s boots off. Clarke can see her soft smirk through her half shut eyes.

“Lexa?”

“Hmm…?”

“You’re not like me are you? You’re special…”

“I am. But I can also bleed, and weep, and feel pain, and die just like you.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t do any of that.” Clarke raises her hand to try to grab Lexa’s but can’t seem to see where it is in her drunken state.

“Sleep now.” Lexa snuffs out the candle by the bed and it’s the last thing Clarke remembers.

Xx

She wakes up alone.

She wakes up alone in Lexa’s quarters.

The ones that look more lived in and personal than she would ever have imagined.

Almost as lived in as her room on the ship.

All of Lexa’s secrets reside here.

Polis.

Clarke never… never would have figured.

But it makes sense. Feels so simple now that she knows the truth.

Polis is in the center of everything. Ships from all over pass by and through here on their way to the end of the world.

She always thought that Commander was just a silly nickname. A tease to throw at the all too proper and formal pirate.

Always assumed the _Steltrona_ was fast because of the way it was built or it’s light hold or the sails.

But now, now it’s all coming together.

There is something completely foreign about it.

About the Commander.

The title.

About the ship.

The shadow that moves through the waves like it weighs nothing at all.

Her head puzzles it all but aches with the hangover from her heavy pour the night before. She’s dizzy as she swings her legs off the side of the bed, and has to stop a moment before the room stops spinning.

She has never felt less like someone who makes their life on the sea.

She’s glad Lexa is not here to see, to tease.  There is already water and fruit set out for her on the small table. Lexa’s jacket still resting on the chair like it was back on her quarters in the ship.

She drinks a full stein of water and looks at the offerings on the plate but before she can choose the door to the room creaks open behind her. She tries to hide the smile that starts to grow on her face as she turns to find Lexa.

Except it’s not Lexa who entered.

“Titus.”

He shuts the door quietly behind him and steps further into the room.


	14. XIV

“Forgive me, Captain. I did not expect to find you here.”

Clarke tries to relax, but something about Titus’ posture won’t allow it. “Me either.”

It’s too early and her brain hasn’t caught up, but her hackles are raised and she feels more awake than she should.

He stands there for another long moment, studying her. Scanning her bedridden clothes and messy hair. Disdain only barely visible in his eyes underneath a stoic facade.

“We know nothing about you and yet, Heda allows you in her room unaccompanied.”

“She knows plenty about me.” Clarke lets the innuendo lay there, popping a grape in her dry mouth and watching Titus try to control his reaction to her words, her comfort in the space.

“Rumor has it that Bellamy Blake has been following you. Missing you by mere hours at your last stop.”

Clarke’s stomach turns.

Bellamy.

Fuck.

“Well, you know what they say about rumors….” She plucks another grape from the stem and waits for Titus to continue.

Instead he just surveys her.

“Where there is Bellamy Blake there is Lieutenant Pike. You can see why his shadows would cause alarm, no?”

“Bellamy is not a threat.” She shrugs and attempts to look out the window again, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to be over.

“Either you’re too stupid to understand that he is, or you’re trying to pull one over on me.”

“Perhaps it’s neither.”

He steps closer, something darkening on his features, “Why are you here, Griffin?”

“ _Here_ , here? Or here in general? Or here on earth? You’ve gotta narrow it down if you want me to answer.”

That seems to be the last straw for Titus.

He steps closer again, bodying Clarke against the table. “ _What_ do you want from _her_?” He growls, his words punching through the air with his anger.

“ _Titus_ , enough!” Lexa stands at the open door, feral and alive and zeroed in on the man standing too close to Clarke.

“Heda, forgive me.” He takes a step back and a deep breath, but instead of looking chastised his eyes still burn with questions.

“My guests are not to be treated this way.” She’s breathing deep. Her voice still a low growl.

“My apologies. I did not realize Clarke was your guest.” His tone hints at insult, and it’s taken as one, but not by Clarke.

“ _Captain_ Griffin.”

“Lexa, it’s-” Clarke begins, but is cut off by Lexa’s stern glare as she steps further into the room.

Titus looks likely to explode at the familiarity with which Clarke addresses Lexa.

“You have no business here with the Captain. Your concerns were well documented yesterday when we arrived. Please see to the fist fight that broke out in the tavern this morning.”

“Heda, I have news-”

She cuts him off with a firm “Leave us.”

Titus backs away to the door, bowing his head as he closes it behind him.

Lexa takes another deep breath in the middle of the room and pulls her hat off her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Titus can be… overprotective. He’s a strong advisor, but he oversteps his bounds from time to time.”

“It’s alright.”

She finally looks up, her eyes sorrowful.

It makes Clarke’s fingers tingle.

“It’s not. You are worthy of respect, Clarke. Especially here.”

Clarke accepts Lexa’s compliment, her cheeks blushing. They both look out the window and breathe for a long moment.

“He did catch me in your room all rumpled and messy so…”

“Clarke….”

Clarke can see Lexa blushing out of the corner of her eye. She tries to tamp down the smile that threatens to overtake her face, but she can’t.

They both bubble with soft laughter.

Clarke’s smile grows when she hears the soft laugh that spills from Lexa’s mouth.

It’s beautiful.

So alive and buoyant.

So like the girl that hides beneath the war paint and the glare.

She moves, unbreathing, and kisses it from Lexa’s lips.

Not thinking about anything else.

Consumed wholly with tasting the laugh from the source.

Gently.

Tenderly.

A brush of lips.

When she steps away, Lexa’s pupils are wide and her face is set in shock. Anxiety floods through her.

“Shit, sorry. I’m sorry…” She wants to step back even further. Leave this room and this port and never look back, but Lexa stops her.

Grabs her elbow and pulls her close again.

Moves first and kisses her with depth. Meaning.

Full and fierce.

Something cracks open then.

The tide shifts and the breeze changes and suddenly it’s a new course.

And there is no way they can turn back.

Not now.

Not with the way Lexa is kissing her.

Like she has thought about nothing else for days. Months. Years.

Everything they’ve been dancing around comes to a head and they meet it full force, together.

Clarke feels her feet move beneath her. Pushing her towards the bed. Lexa’s grip steady on her elbow, her hip. Guiding her.

Lexa is warm and soft under her hands. Her shoulders strong, the muscles through her shirt tight with action.

Her lips are relentless, her tongue slipping between Clarke’s and sliding against her own. The small breaths and tiny moans echoing in Clarke’s ears.

Her blood boils under her skin.

There’s still too much between them.

Too many unknowns.

Too many layers.

But all Clarke can think about is getting Lexa’s belt undone. Pulling her shirt from where it’s tucked into pants. Nipping at the supple lips attached to her own.

The bed hits her knees and she falls back. The ties on her own shirt already unfastened. Lexa’s strong, rough hands sneaking underneath against her warm skin.

It feels like fire.

Lexa touches her and she comes alive.

She moves over her like a shadow, her mouth unforgiving and blistering as it finds new skin to savor.

Clarke claws at her back, needs the cloth between them gone. Pulls and tugs until Lexa sits up and rips it off.

Her scarred, taut skin finally on full display.

Puckered scars, ink that lives in patterns that spill across Lexa’s arm, muscles clenching and heaving with her breath.

Lexa’s eyes are heavy.

She meets Clarke’s and something wild stretches between them.

Lexa who takes it as her cue to continue.

Who leans back down and sweeps Clarke into another kiss. Her mouth hungry and aching.

Lexa’s fingers work their way under Clarke’s shirt again, sliding it up her torso, but not moving, not leaving to finish the job. Clarke finally gets Lexa’s belt undone, pushes her pants down. Lexa stands with an angry growl and tosses them off. Her boots hitting the floor, her belt buckle following a second later with a resolute thud.

Clarke takes the time to divest herself of her own shirt, before Lexa is kneeling before her and pulling her pants off slowly.

It’s a maddening pace.

Inch by inch revealed.

Kissed.

Her eyes locked on Clarke’s.

Heated.

Needy.

Clarke grips at her shoulders until she’s too far out of reach.

When she finally crawls back up, drawing her tongue along Clarke’s bare skin, it’s with a devilish smile.

Her hair is soft between Clarke’s fingers as she tries to bring that mouth back to her own, but Lexa won’t allow it.

Clarke has her on her back in no time.

A shocked gasp leaves Lexa’s lips, but Clarke,

Clarke cries out when their bare skin meets.

A pure shock to the system.

A bolt of lightning crashing into the waves.

There is no more teasing after that.

Nothing slow.

It’s too much.

It’s devastating.

Furious.

She needs Lexa like she’s never needed anyone before.

Lexa’s fingers curl into her perfectly.

Her mouth ravishes Clarke’s breasts.

And when she comes it’s with Lexa’s name on her lips.

An explosion behind her eyelids.

Lexa follows a moment later. Her quiet whimpers turning into something animal. Her teeth digging into Clarke’s shoulder.

It doesn’t stop.

Lexa is relentless beneath her, moving and curling again and again.

Clarke can’t catch a breath, can’t think about anything but that white light.

Until she’s on her back and Lexa is smiling down at her. Her hand caressing Clarke’s cheek, her fingers wet.

It’s a gentle kiss that’s placed on her lips then.

Soft and slow.

Like the one they shared in the cave.

She feels Lexa move against her, her breathing shallow again.

Clarke’s name spilling from her lips, against her ear as she crashes over the edge again.

Clarke clawing at her back.

It’s all quick and fast.

A tidal wave.

There’s no time to savor, no time to waste.

They need this.

They need each other.

A truth that stretches out between their bodies slick with sweat.

Xx

Clarke doesn’t know when they stop.

Doesn’t remember anything.

Wakes up and feels warm skin under her cheek. Lexa’s heart beating strong and sure under her ear. A warm arm around her back holding her tight.

It was instinct.

Lust.

That magnetic pull that brought them together.

She can’t ruin this.

This fledgling partnership.

They needed it.

The release.

The chase.

But it can’t happen again.

Clarke drags herself from Lexa’s bed, Lexa’s embrace.

Quells her raging heart and pulls her clothes back on slowly. Piece by piece, ignoring the quiet sounds that slip from Lexa’s swollen lips.

No.

She can’t do this.

She slips from the room with her boots in her hand and her hat placed haphazardly on her messy hair.

She almost makes it back to her room unscathed.

Almost.

Until she rounds the corner and runs into Octavia.

“Griff! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Her eyes are wide with shock and she takes in Clarke’s appearance.

Her face changes from shocked to amused before she continues.

“Blake! _What_!” Clarke snaps.

“Shit, Cap. One of the ships that just came in said Bellamy was tailing them.”

“Fuck,” she remembers Titus and his angry red face.

Octavia’s feet shuffle with nerves and the realization slams into Clarke.

Not only will Bellamy find them, catch on to them, but it will be the first time Octavia’s seen him since he defected.

“O, are you-”

She doesn’t even get the question out before Octavia cuts her off.

“Fuck, why does everyone think I’m not okay? I’m telling you because it’s my job to tell you and I think we need to leave.”

“We can’t leave yet. Not without the Commander.”

“Fuck the Commander.”

Clarke can feel the heat climbing up her neck as Octavia’s words bring flashes of her morning of lust back to her mind.

“We’ll figure something out. Go find everyone else and meet me in my room.”

“Aye.”

Octavia brushes past her and Clarke notices the set of her shoulders and the tension in her jaw.

This isn’t going to go well at all.

For any of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any of you still with me?


	15. XV

Clarke barely has time to get cleaned up and put herself back together before the crew is bursting through her door.

They look grim, nervous.

Clarke hates it.

“Well, looks like karma has caught up to us then.” She tries something lighthearted but it falls flat.

Raven snorts, Murphy rolls his eyes, Octavia keeps staring at the floor.

“If Bell is here, that means we need a plan.” Raven speaks up first, cold ice in her voice.

“Why don’t we just take him out once and for all?” Murphy snarks. Clarke knows he means his words even if they’re laced in apathy.

Octavia flies at him, but Clarke grabs her before she can get close. They all glare at him, Clarke holding a wriggling Octavia in her arms until the moment passes.

“That’s not ever going to be an option and you know it, Murphy. Suggest it again and you can find a new crew.” Clarke leaves no room for misunderstanding in her tone.

Raven guffaws at the remark but quiets when Clarke’s eyes slide to her.

“Ok, well it’s too late to leave. He’d see us leaving and follow anyway. Plus we don’t have a plan with _the Commander_ so… what are we supposed to do, Captain?”

“You bring up a very good point, Murphy. We’re going to have to spin a tall tale, I think.”

“He’ll never buy it. He knows all your moves, Clarke.” Octavia pushes Clarke’s arms from her waist and fixes her shirt, fully invested in the meeting.

“That’s a lie. A Captain never reveals all her secrets.”

They all pause for a moment and look up at Clarke for a beat before spiraling into laughter.

“Ok, ok. Listen… we can’t run and we can’t hide. So, let’s just tell the truth.”

“That we’re working with the Commander on a secret quest to find a fantasy island?” Octavia doesn’t hide her skepticism and Raven stands next to her biting her tongue.

When she looks up Clarke can see the effort it’s taking her not to question her Captain, her friend.

“Nope. That we’re here and our hull is empty and we’re looking for a good time before our next job.”

“Cap…”

Clarke shrugs, “It’s the best I got on short notice, so it’ll have to do.”

“What are we going to do? Just sit here and wait for him to leave first? What about the Commander, the job?”

“We’ll figure something out, we always do.”

“Clarke…” Raven does speak up, finally.

“What do you want me to say? You already know what needs to happen, I need to talk to Lexa.”

“You just _did_ talk to Lexa. You’ve been _talking_ to Lexa this whole time! How could you possibly not have a coherent plan _yet_?” Octavia spits it at her feet.

Clarke stares her down, steps closer. Octavia’s eyes don’t even flicker, she doesn’t breathe.

It’s Murphy who reaches out and places a hand on Octavia’s shoulder, pulls her away.

“This all happened very quickly and new shit keeps flying at us every day. But, she’s right…” He turns to look at Clarke, “We can’t just wait here forever, we’ll have to shake Bellamy somehow.”

“I know.”

A knock at the door interrupts them, Raven jumps. Octavia pulls her knife.

Murphy opens the door.

“Ah, surprise surprise.” He steps away to show Lexa, looking nothing like she did this morning.

Buttoned up and proper, her posture tight, her hand on the hilt of the dagger in her belt.

She looks very much the Commander. No hint of anything else.

“Captain. I have some news.” She nods at Clarke, but doesn’t make eye contact.

“Guys,” Clarke waves her crew away.

Clarke’s heart flutters in her chest as Lexa steps into her room and shuts the door quietly behind her.

Lexa jumps right to business, ignoring Clarke’s small smile. She feels foolish.

“Bellamy Blake’s ship has been spotted close. He’ll be here soon.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Titus?”

“And Octavia.” Clarke admits with a sigh.

“He cannot be a problem, Clarke.” Lexa’s eyes are hard with the threat.

“I understand and I’m working on it.”

“That does not inspire confidence.” Her mouth sets in a firm line, her hand tighter on the hilt of her knife.

“You worry about your people and I’ll worry about mine.”

They stand at an impasse. Clarke worries Lexa will leave, will flee the scene just as she did herself this morning.

That with their business cleared up, there’s nothing else to talk about with the lines already crossed between them and neither one knowing what that means.

Lexa clears her throat, “I had one idea…”  This time when she looks at Clarke there’s a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. Clarke feels the vice around her heart ease up, just a smidge.

She curses herself for it.

“Please, do tell.”

“First, we need to look at this map. It all ties together.”

Clarke smiles as Lexa reaches into the breast pocket of her jacket, coming away with the tattered piece of paper. The thrill of figuring out the mystery of the map thrumming through her body, paired with the thrill of Lexa here in her quarters.

Lexa looks over her shoulder at the door, checking to make sure it’s closed and locked.

“We won’t be disturbed. My crew will leave us alone and Titus won’t come here will he?” Clarke wonders.

Lexa shakes her head. “He wouldn’t. But he also thinks I’m across the island on business.”

Clarke levels her with a look, “Arrogant. You know he’d come _here_ to threaten me again and he’d do it while you were _gone_ , right?”

Lexa’s face blanches.

Clarke’s heart picks up at the thought of Lexa worrying over her. But she tries to put it from her mind, focus on the task at hand.

Tries to remember her vow from only a short while ago.

_It cannot happen again._

Things are already too tenuous with their new alliance, especially with Bellamy Blake on his way to the island.

She clears her throat and fidgets with her belt.

“Just do your thing already, nightblood.” Clarke nudges her towards the small table next to the bed.

Lexa carefully sets the map down and removes her jacket.

“You know… I thought you were a myth. I thought that was a myth.” It’s a revelation that leaves her tongue as a whisper. Something strange and unacknowledged between them.

It’s a question Clarke has been thinking about for days. Since she saw the first prickle of the dark blood bloom on Lexa’s pale skin.

“All myths have their roots in reality.” Lexa is so calm. Her eyes are still and clear.

“Are Commanders always nightbloods?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Clarke…” Her voice is enough to quell Clarke’s next question, but the way she looks at her almost stops her heart.

“Ok, one too many I guess.” Clarke blushes, chagrined and overstepping whatever boundaries Lexa has drawn in the sand.

“All in due time, Clarke.”

She rolls up the sleeve of her shirt methodically. Precisely.

A small knife comes next, pulled from her boot.

She hands it to Clarke.

“What? Why are you giving this to me?”

“I trust you.” She holds her bare forearm out to Clarke.

“Lexa…”

“Just do it. Shallow. No need for a lot, it should come through with a drop or two.”

Clarke takes Lexa’s hand in hers, trying to ignore the jolt that comes when they touch. She can feel her neck warming, Lexa’s eyes on her.

“You left this morning.” There’s pain hidden in Lexa’s words. In between the spaces.

“I did.”

“Do you regret….” She trails off and Clarke aches.

“No.” She surprises herself with her answer. She doesn’t regret it, but that doesn’t mean they can cross that line once more.

She looks at Lexa, really looks at her. Waits until green eyes are on hers.

Lexa doesn’t say anything.

Takes a quiet breath, her shoulders relaxing.

Clarke places the edge of the small blade gently against Lexa’s skin. Increasing the pressure just enough to see small black balls of liquid bubble up at the surface against the blade.

Lexa guides Clarke’s hand over the map, letting the droplets of blood at the tip of the blade spill onto the tattered parchment.

The map comes alive before them.

The parchment soaks up the black blood like invisible ink, threading it through the fibers and drawing a whole world with it.

“We need more.” Lexa lets go of the blade and squeezes the tiny slice on her forearm, pushing the blood from the skin to the paper below it.

It drips slowly, running along the paper until it’s soaked in, coloring in the lines that exist like magic undetected.

It’s there before them, swirling and coming alive.

Until everything stops.

And the map is there, glistening and real.

A course.

A chart.

“Oh my.”

Xx

Clarke stumbles into the tavern, her crew circled around a small table in the back.

“What’s the plan?” Octavia bristles, clearly ready for action.

“We’re going to have to lie low for a couple of days.”

“Ok. And Bellamy?”

“Leave him to me. Once he’s bored, we’ll pull him aside and dispose of him.”

“Captain-” Octavia leans forward, a feral look on her face.

“Blake… easy. I’m not gonna kill him. We’re just going to make sure he can’t follow us.”

“How?” There’s a glint of fear in her eyes. She tries to hide it, but Clarke has known her for too long. Heard the tears she shed the night Bellamy left.

“Rock, head, ropes. It’s pretty simple.” She shrugs and finishes the rum in Raven’s glass in two long gulps. It settles into her nervous belly boosting it with false confidence.

“So you’re going to knock him out and tie him up and wait for someone to find him.” Murphy laughs.

“Yup.”

“It’ll never work.”

“Please, have some faith.” Clarke tries to keep her voice hopeful, even though she’s not sure how well it will work either. It’s too simple. Too straightforward.

“I’ll do it.” Raven offers.

“Raven, no.” She shakes her head.

“No, I’ll do it. It was my heart he played with. Mine he broke. I’ll do it.” Her eyes are resolute, her face set in stone.

Clarke studies her. Remembers how devastated she was when Bellamy was gone.

More than Octavia ever showed.

They were all heartbroken when he left. Deserted.

Turned traitorous to their cause.

“Ok, Reyes.”

“Clarke…” Octavia looks worried now. Clarke remembers how she was the only one who could console Raven. How they huddled together studiously working for days after it happened. And when they docked at port to sell their take, the two of them disappeared for two straight nights.

“He’ll take her bait easier than mine, Octavia. I’ll be there watching, in case anything goes wrong.” Clarke knows it’s risky. Knows it’s a long shot. Knows that Raven is heartbroken and a broken heart is anything but logical.

“This is horrible, really. A terrible plan.” Murphy shakes his head and downs his own drink. “But I like it.”

“Well, good because it’s all we’ve got.” She signals to the bartender for another round.

It’s going to take a few more of them to rid the terrible taste of this plan from her mouth.

Xx

Clarke feels it.

The second his presence lands on the island. Waltzes into the shop where she’s looking at new guns.

It’s a tightening in her gut, hair raised on the back of her neck.

“Well, well, well, finally.” His deep voice booms around the small shop.

“Blake.”

“Griffin.”

“Are you having fun following me?” She teases. Lays the bait there for him, knowing his ego will not be able to let it go.

“Who says I’m following you?” He sidles up next to her, takes a look at the piece in her hand.

“Literally everyone.”

He laughs at that, trying to make it sound relaxed. But Clarke has known him for too long. Can hear the way he forces it from his belly.

“Good to know you haven’t lost a beat since I left you, Griff.”

“Guess you weren’t as valuable as you thought, Bell.” She snarks back. He winces at the use of the nickname he hates.

The one they started using when he left them.

Joined forces with Pike.

Turned traitor to the black.

Feeding information on the whereabouts of all the crews and all the ships whenever given the chance.

“Does it make you feel alive, being in the Lieutenant’s pocket? Has the Admiral promised you riches and titles for helping him, a place in the ranks of the Royal Navy? Does it feel good to rid the seas of the scourge of pirate scum, you deplorable turncoat?”

“I’d think twice about continuing that speech if I were you, Captain,” he threatens, looms over her.

Clarke matches his glare. Steps closer into his space. Her disgust for his actions plain on her face.

“Enjoy your stay in Polis. The weather is wonderful this time of year, and the cook in the tavern has been making some mighty fine meals since we landed.”

She tips her hat and breezes past him.

She doesn’t need to look back to know he’s frustrated and gaping at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated. i've found some new motivation for this fic these days, very excited about where it's heading. hope you're all still on board!


	16. XVI

The half-hearted plan they concocted seems to be working. It’s been three days of Bellamy lurking like a shadow wherever they are.

Trying to strike up conversations, or just generally make himself known.

He thinks he has a poker face, but Clarke can see right through him. Has always been able to see right through him.

He’s frustrated and at wit’s end.

She makes sure he sees her leaving the bar every night with a different person, one that she shakes off as soon as they’re near the rooms.

Raven has been lying low, nursing her pride. Her wounds. Bellamy hasn’t even tried with her, has steered clear and left her alone to wallow.

He took her heart with him when he left and she’s been trying to get it back piece by piece.

Octavia is everywhere and nowhere.

Murphy has been busy killing time with the same girl every night. When Raven tries to tease him about it he gets defensive immediately and they all laugh until he stands from the table and knocks over his stool in a rush to leave.

It’s new and different and it feels like her crew is all back on the same page again.

Finally.

The only person Clarke doesn’t see for three days is Lexa.

It feels strange.

Like she disappeared into the mist.

Clarke knows she’s still here.

Can feel her, can sense her.

A ghost in rooms entered and vacated.

No one from the _Steltrona_ crew has come within ten feet of Clarke and she can’t blame them. But the plan they hatched will be coming to fruition soon and she’s filled with an excited tension she has never really felt.

This is all bigger than them.

So Lexa remains a ghost.

It has to be this way.

They cannot draw any more attention to their partnership than they already have.

Not while Bellamy is on the island.

Bellamy Blake, ruining things for Clarke yet again.

Xx

She finds Murphy alone one day, searching through the shops. Turns around and finds him with a genuine smile on his face.

“Cap,”

“Murph,” she nods.

They fall into step together and explore the island. The sun beats down relentlessly overhead and Clarke regrets throwing her coat over her shoulders before leaving her room.

“So… who’s the girl?”

“You too?” He groans.

“You’re not getting off easy, but I promise I’ll keep your secret.”

“Her name is Emori.” He can’t say it without smiling.

“Is she on a crew?”

“No, she lives here. Works the island.”

“Hmm.”

“I know what you’re thinking and I won’t hear it.” He shakes his head, a serious tone coating his words.

“I wasn’t thinking anything, Murph. But you look happy.”

“I am.”

“Does she know we’re leaving soon?”

“Yes,” he hesitates.

“Are you still leaving with us?”

He stops. Waits for her to notice and face him. When she does, the look he gives her is stone.

“Yes.”

She stands there and studies him. His features so serious, his eyes stern and focused.

“Alright.”

Someone brushes past her, knocking her shoulder. She turns to yell, to swear, and sees Anya gleam at her from under her low tipped hat.

There’s a moment, a small, almost imperceivable nod, and Clarke understands it for what it is.

A sign.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing you need to worry about old Johnny boy.” She swings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him forward continuing their walk. “Tell me more about this girl you like.”

Xx

When Clarke returns to her room, there’s a folded note just under her door.

She smiles and picks it up, throwing her hat on the bed and pulling her boots off as she sits. The time on the island has been good, allowing them a reprieve from the tumultuous sea they call home.

A chance to stretch.

Get some different food in their bellies.

Sleep for longer than usual.

But, Clarke is beginning to itch.

Itch with the call of it.

Needs to feel unsteady on the always moving world beneath her feet.

She unfolds the note and finds a single word. _Tonight._

Her throat goes dry.

It’s time.

Xx

Raven is huddled in Octavia’s room, sitting beneath the small window and shaking her good leg.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Her face is resolute. “Yes.”

Octavia paces between them, biting her nails.

“O, are you going to be able to handle this?”

“Absolutely. That man is no longer the brother I knew.” She swears it. Clarke stares her down for a long minute, trying to find a crack in her resolve, but comes up empty.

“Okay. So, Raven… you’re going to have to act like you like him again. Turn on those charms I see you use so well…”

“I’m not in a joking mood, Clarke,” she bites.

“Apparently.” She turns her attention to Octavia, leaving Raven to sulk in her chosen task.

“Octavia, you found the spot easily?”

“Yeah, it’s just far out enough from everything, but not so far something can go wrong for us.”

“What about the rest of his crew?”

Clarke smiles, her favorite part of the plan was Lexa’s idea. “Someone is going to start a brawl, distract everyone while we lure Bellamy out.”

They both look at her with surprise on their face.

She shrugs, “It wasn’t my idea, but I think it’s the best shot we’ve got at this.”

Xx

They talk about the next day and go over the plan a few more times, but Clarke trusts that her people are ready to go and will pull through as always when the time comes.

But her stomach lurches when she thinks about the rest of it.

The parts of the plan that her crew doesn’t know about. Isn’t privy to.

The ones that include just her and Lexa.

The ones that will require a giant leap of faith.

She feels her feet pull her in the direction of Lexa’s room. The quarters around them dark, rooms shut for privacy. Moans and groans and bed shaking reaching her ears through some of them.

Pirates.

She shakes her head and walks to the end of the hallway, trying to find her nerve.

She knows what she wants.

Has felt the pull for days.

For longer than that, really.

“Come on, Griff,” she whispers to herself under her breath, striking up the courage.

There is hesitation in her fist, as she raises it to knock quietly on the door. An anxiety that grips her belly and doesn’t let go.

Once.

Twice.

Footsteps approach from the other side and the door opens, just barely. Enough for a green eye to look out at her, enough for a quirk of lips to one side before the door opens further. Clarke steps inside the candlelit room and takes it all in. Her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

Boots propped up by the bed.

A hat placed over the table in the corner.

The jacket hanging off the wooden chair.

It’s all so familiar to her and yet new at the same time. This is Lexa _as she is_.

The door shuts behind her and she turns to find Lexa still standing there.

It takes her breath away, the image before her.

She has never seen this Lexa.

Not since she’s known her.

Not when they kissed in the cave.

Not when they shared soft smiles over secret meetings.

Not when Clarke had her in bed days ago.

No, this Lexa,

This Lexa is different.

The one looking at her with soft eyes, and the hint of a smile. Hair out of her braids and pulled over one shoulder. Her shirt dangerously open hinting at more skin that Clarke aches to see again.

It is unexpected how stunning she is.

Clarke’s stomach warms and pulses, the urge that brought her to the door moment ago even stronger now.

She remembers how that skin tastes, feels.

She tries to take it all in, the beautiful creature before her but it’s too much.

Too overwhelming.

Her feet move before she realizes it.

She crosses the room again in a sweep of steps and pulls Lexa to her lips. Lexa’s eyes light up at the last second like she expected it, not the least bit surprised to find the rascal of a pirate captain outside her door in the darkest hours.

Her lips greet Clarke’s easily. Sliding together like old friends, woven patterns somewhere innate inside of them. Lexa’s mouth is insistent, hungry.

Unwavering.

She moves her head and changes the kiss before Clarke can catch up. It takes everything she has just to hold on.

She can feel Lexa’s aching desire ignite like a powder keg. Her back hits the closed door behind them and Lexa breaks her lips away and takes a deep breath. Her eyes watery and disbelieving.

It’s just so fucking perfect.

Almost overwhelming.

Clarke reaches out and runs a thumb across her lips, cradles her cheek and wills her calloused hands to be soft, soft. She nods her head and leans in to kiss Lexa again. It’s a quieter kiss, one that speaks to the soul and tugs at everything inside.

It wakes up something ancient and powerful within Clarke.

It’s different this time.

It’s not rushed.

It’s not a typhoon of emotions and hormones spiraling into need and lust.

This language their bodies speak to each other is beyond explanation.

They’re falling onto the bed before Clarke realizes it, can figure out how they got there. Lexa lets out a quiet yelp of surprise and Clarke laughs against her lips. A tug on the back of her hair pulls Clarke away from her face and Clarke laughs again at the challenging, quizzical look on Lexa’s face.

Struck by how different she is from The Commander.

How wonderfully _human_ she is.

How stunning.

She doesn’t answer Lexa’s look, just leans back in and finds the spot where neck meets shoulder, causing Lexa’s hands to tighten again around her, a moan to slide from her lips.

She smirks and nips the skin, enthralled with the hint of a growl she feels crawl up Lexa’s throat.

Lexa’s whispers fuel her.

As her fingers dip below the leather of Clarke’s pants and Clarke groans into her neck. Moving back to her lips only to find an impish grin on her face.

That feeling thrums inside of her again, the feeling that this is what she’s wanted for longer than she’d care to admit.

That last time was not just a one-off.

A fluke.

There’s a reality here.

The danger that exists before her, against her fingertips, more alluring and more deadly than any she’s faced on the seas.

Clarke thought she had her fill the other day. Told herself it was enough. It was good. It couldn’t happen again because of the job they need to do.

But Lexa,

Lexa is…

Another tug on her hair pulls her attention. She finishes sliding Lexa’s shirt off her shoulders and feels Lexa’s shaky breath against her cheeks.

Looks up and sees it all in her eyes.

Mirrored back at her, everything she’s feeling in this moment.

She’s not alone in this moment, this leap of faith into something unknown.

Lexa caresses her face with both hands, cradles her like a precious being. Pulls her back and guides Clarke on top of her, moves with her further onto the bed.

She feels Lexa’s smile against her lips as she’s pulled down to meet them, her hair fluttering around them like a golden curtain. Lexa doesn’t let go of her face, doesn’t move past this. The feeling of her skin against Lexa’s sends shivers down her spine, but Lexa doesn’t rush. Doesn’t move.

Keeps fitting her lips against Clarke’s like it’s all she wants from this world.

Keeps tying her tongue in bows with Clarke’s in a way that makes everything inside of Clarke want to scream.

She wants to feel Lexa against her. All of her.

But she waits.

Patient.

Enjoying the slice of bliss in the here and now.

Lexa’s kisses grow hungrier.

Messier.

Her breathing ragged against Clarke.

Teeth nipping and biting.

And all she wants is to hear the sounds Lexa makes when she breaks.

The ones that have echoed in her head every night since Clarke first heard them.

Instead, she feels herself being flipped over, Lexa straddling her and pulling Clarke’s hand to the laces of her pants. Her eyes blown dark and wide, glinting with shimmers of the candles lit by the bed.

Clarke takes in the sight of her. Her naked torso. Her long curly hair reaching down to cover her chest like a mermaid.

And Clarke knows in that instant it’s true.

Lexa will be the one to pull her under.

To grab hold and not let go.

Clarke will drown with Lexa’s taste on her lips.

And a smile on her face.


	17. XVII

She wakes with a start and knows without opening her eyes that she is alone in the room.

Lexa is gone. The bed cold and empty without her.

The sunrise through the window and spreading across the floor chasing away the remnants of last night.

Of Lexa’s face as she worked into Clarke.

Of their bodies slick with sweat and heat sliding together.

The whimpers and groans shared between them.

Lexa’s neck as it stretched back at Clarke’s touch.

Keening above her in her release, wild and extraordinary.

Clarke hates waking up alone.

Wants to roll over and find Lexa, rumpled and exhausted and smiling in her sleep.

But, this was the plan. This was what they worked out when they got news of Bellamy’s arrival.

When they finally pieced together the map and realized how quickly everything was coming to a head.

Lexa would leave before first light.

This was in the works long before their second tryst.

The one she couldn’t fight, the pull to Lexa too strong. Too wonderful.

Clarke knows one thing to be absolutely certain.

In the harsh light of the morning, as surely as the dawn rises in the east.

She will always want more of Lexa.

Will never be satiated.

And any thoughts she had of getting it all out of her system get thrown overboard.

Because Lexa has crawled inside, under her skin, and made a home there between her ribs.

And Clarke,

Clarke is utterly fucked.

Xx

The crew are waiting for her in Raven’s room. They look ready, on edge in that way before a fight.

This is it.

The moment that everything changes and what they’ve been chasing starts coming to fruition.

“Alright, Murphy grab everyone else and start getting shit ready on the ship. Don’t be conspicuous about it and don’t get the sails set until you see us coming.”

“We’ve gone over this a million times, Cap.”

He starts to roll his eyes but she just glares at him until he stops and quiets.

“Octavia, make sure no one sees us when we leave.”

“Of course.”

“Raven?”

“Yeah, Griff?” The way Raven looks up at her, the sultry gaze and the pouty lips, knocks Clarke for a loop.

She smiles, “Good. You’re ready. He won’t know what hit him.”

“That’s the plan.”

They laugh and breathe for a moment, all sharing nervous glances with each other until the nerves are more from inaction than anything else.

“Shall we?” Clarke asks, a smile on her face.

Xx

The room is crowded when they descend. Clarke signals to the burly man standing by the door. They’ll have a few moments before the fight breaks out.

Raven finds Bellamy.

Bats her eyes and starts talking to him quietly.

He looks confused for a moment before relaxing into it. The same smile he used to share with her spreads on his face and Clarke feels like she can breathe if only for this instant.

Octavia slips out the back, moving like a shadow.

Clarke sits down and orders a drink and tries to make small talk. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end when she sees Titus in the corner.

Watching her.

Glaring.

She’s never felt this threatened by someone for just merely existing, which strikes is strange because she’s a fucking pirate.

Raven leans close to Bellamy and draws her attention away. There’s a softness on her face that Clarke hasn’t seen in a long time. Raven whispers something into Bellamy’s ear. He smirks and grabs her waist looking smug. She almost can’t believe he buys it so quickly, but he’s never been a strong thinker.

Clarke wants to punch him.

Slap him.

Knows she can’t.

Knows that what’s coming will be punishment enough for everything he’s put them through.

Put Raven through.

They stand to leave and Raven guides him towards where Octavia slipped out not moments ago. Clarke turns and nods at the burly man, who springs into action and starts tossing people around.

Within seconds everyone else in the room joins in and Clarke would laugh at how easily it all went down if it wasn’t for the next piece of the plan. She exits through the front door and walks quickly towards the row boats. She hops into one with a dull thud and unties it, sitting and ready for Raven and Octavia to join her. The sun is almost halfway across its daily walk through the sky, and the crews on the island will all be enjoying a midday nap or roll around with someone warm in their beds.

It’s not long until she sees two familiar heads crest the last sand dune with wide smiles on their faces.

Octavia slows her pace to walk next to Raven, and Clarke can hear their laughter ring out across the water.

Clarke maneuvers the boat, holding onto the dock as Octavia hops in and helps Raven down.

“You missed one hell of a fight, Griff!” Raven is a little breathless, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

“Oh, I saw some of it,” she laughs.  “Looks like we had a good idea with that scrum.”

“It’s still raging on in there… we heard someone screaming like a banshee for a bit.”

Clarke laughs again as she starts picking up a steady rhythm with the oars. Octavia keeps a lookout over her shoulder as she works the oars into the water.

“How’d it go?”

“Easy. It’ll be a while before anyone finds him.” Octavia is very matter of fact as she says it. When Clarke glances at Raven, her eyes are hard, steely.

“Rave?”

“I just need a while to process.”

“Murphy just started getting the last sails down.” Octavia interrupts before the conversation can turn awkward.

“Good. The quicker we get out of here the better.”

“Hey, Clarke?” Raven asks and waits for Clarke to look at her before continuing her question. “Where’s the _Steltrona_?”

“Gone.”

Both of them look shocked at Clarke’s revelation.

“What do you mean _gone_?”

“They left. Before dawn.”

“Clarke…”

“Raven, it’s all part of the plan.”

“You never used to keep secrets like this before, Griff. You know that? Do you remember how you trusted us? Before this fucking nonsense with Jaha and now the Commander?” Raven is getting riled up, the fire in her eyes when she left with Bellamy spilling over into everything.

“I do. But I’m doing it for you. For my people.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Raven,” Clarke warns.

“No, _no_ don’t talk to me about doing it for your people or whatever you just said. You want to talk about _sacrifice_? How about pretending to seduce the man who ripped out your heart with his betrayal and left like nothing even mattered? Not you. Not your crew. Not your livelihood. Not _anything_.”

Clarke continues rowing steadily, quietly, watching Raven’s breathing return to normal. The glare in her eyes frosty at best, but Clarke knows it won’t get any better. Not until she starts talking.

“The crew of the _Steltrona_ left last night, getting a head start in case our plan to knock Bell out and get him off the grid for a while didn’t work. We cannot risk him seeing us together.”

“How do you know they didn’t just take off?” Octavia places a soft hand on Raven’s shoulder, taking the reins of the conversation.

Clarke shrugs, something punching her gut. “I don’t.”

“This is… this is _crazy_.”

“It is.”

“Where are we meeting them?” Raven growls, not nearly as fired up as before but still frustrated and full of the emotions fighting in her chest.

“You’ll see.”

Raven huffs and settles into her seat, crossing her arms and looking out at the horizon.

Xx

The Ark is bustling with activity when Clarke’s boots land on the deck. She breathes it in and feels that warm _home_ feeling inside before barking out orders.

They’re moving shortly, the wind working with them and soon enough Polis is a speck on the horizon.

“Reyes,” She calls for Raven. “Follow me.”

She hears Raven’s peg-legged step follow her below deck and into her cabin. Clarke lets out a sigh when Raven shuts the door.

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’re also right. This is totally new territory.”

Raven stands stock still as Clarke admits it.

“Are you sure about that? You hate admitting anyone else is right…” her tone is teasing, but the words are completely serious.

“Because I’m the Captain, I’m always right.” Clarke snarks back.

“What’s going on with you, Griff? I’ve never seen you torn up like this.”

Another big sigh escapes from Clarke’s lips before she can rein it in. She runs her hands through her messy hair and plops down in her chair.

“This shit with Lexa it’s confusing.”

Raven eyes her up and down but doesn’t say anything more.

“I trust her, but I barely know her. This whole…job is…. _How_ did we get tied up in this, Rave?”

“Money. Like always.”

“I hate working for Jaha. Why did I take this job?”

“Because it pays well.”

She groans, “Stop thinking with gold coins in your eyes.”

“Honestly, Clarke. We go where the money is. Always have.”

“Yeah… I know.”

“This isn’t about the job is it?”

“What?” Clarke looks up, broken from her thoughts. The ones still swirling around Lexa and the madness of it all.

“Your mood. It’s not just the job.” Raven states matter of factly.

“No, it’s not.”

“Is it the Commander?” Raven tries to be sly but Clarke knows she’s been watched like a hawk.

“Yes, but not how you think. We’re wading into some very treacherous waters here. Myth come to life.”

“That’s why we do this.”

“I thought you said it was all for money?” Clarke can’t help but tease, wants to redirect the conversation away from the danger of Lexa.

“And adventure,” Raven shrugs one elbow, but smiles conspiratorially with Clarke.


	18. XVIII

It’s well past dark when they approach the back of the fort.

“Clarke….” Octavia’s voice catches on her name, like she knows she shouldn’t be asking but everything they’ve learned as compelled her to.

“This place is deserted. Has been for years so it’s the perfect spot to stay before this all ends.”

Clarke snaps the compass shut and grabs the wheel. The cove around them littered with skeletons of ships, carcasses gutted out and rotting in the waves.

Dozens of them.

It sends a chill down her spine and she grips the wheel tighter, navigating the Ark through the perilous water.

The fort used to be impenetrable.

Until it wasn’t.

It was Lexa who mentioned it. Hushed and secretive over the still drying map. The one soaked in her black blood.

The fort has garnered its own mystique.

The place ships used to go to die quick, watery deaths.

Overtaken by the Royal Navy decades ago and abandoned shortly thereafter, it’s never talked about.

Whenever it is, it comes up in tales. In songs.

In lore.

The older group, the ones still alive and grizzled with life on the sea, talk about it as if it were alive.

Haunted.

Perhaps it is.

Clarke can only imagine how many have died in these shallow waters. How many sank to the depths. How many wrestled with sharks only to lose.

Her crew is eerily silent around her, as they all stand on the deck and pass the tallest of the masts growing out of the water.

She holds tight and slips the ship into the cavern she knows is there. The one she can feel in her bones.

The _Steltrona_ will be there.

_Lexa_ will be there.

They pass through the cave and it’s dark. Completely black.

No light bounces back off of them.

Clarke doesn’t breathe, doesn’t think.

Holds her hands tight on the wheel, not daring to blink.

She knows she’ll see it soon.

The hidden cove.

Just a bit further.

Someone gasps at the bow and it echoes all the way down to her.

Slowly, the world around them begins to grow lighter.

The grip around her lungs loosens and she takes a deep breath, watching the cove open before them. The ground beneath the fort hollowed out and hidden.

The _Steltrona_ is there, just as she should be.

There’s an ethereal light that bounces off the wet, dark walls around them. It reminds Clarke of the cave where they found the map. Where Lexa’s eyes glowed with something… magical.

Another chill shoots down her spine and she can feel it. Again.

The something _other_ that rests in the air here.

The secrets that Lexa continues to keep close to her chest.

Xx

“Captain Griffin, good of you to join us.” Anya calls out with a wicked grin, helping pull the small boat to shore.

“ _Always_ a pleasure, Anya.”

“You know me, I love welcoming guests and former pirate foes to secret, clandestine meetings.” She shrugs and sets off through a path in the cave around them. The walls leak with water and the air smells like salt. Boots squeak on the surface as they follow Anya until they climb a set of stone stairs and into the fort above.

Down another long hallway.

Through a large, lacquered door.

There’s a warmth all around the room, an even light.

It’s not what Clarke was expecting.

She blinks against it, allowing her eyes time to adjust. Focus.

The crew of the Steltrona is sitting around a large, round table. Eating and drinking and laughing.

It’s…

Lexa sits in front of a blazing fire, her eyes alight as soon as they land on Clarke. A secret smile is there inside, and Lexa stands to welcome the crew.

Raven says something in her excitement, but Clarke doesn’t hear it.

They all file in just as surprised and just as awed as Clarke, sitting in the open spots around the table and grabbing food eagerly.

“Where are we?” Clarke whispers, still not believing how much this deserted old fort looks lived in and well used.

“Please sit, Clarke.” Lexa gestures to an open chair across from her. Both crews are watching and talking quietly, too consumed with food to really pay attention.

“Okay….” Clarke sits and takes a sip from the large goblet in front of her. Fancier than it has any right to be. The rum that sits inside is the purest she’s ever tasted. “Wow!” She swallows and has another sip, watching Lexa enjoy her reaction over the rim of the cup.

“Welcome to _Trikova Ailon_.” Lexa bows her head and everyone quiets. She turns her head to address Clarke’s crew. “It goes without saying that what you see here, what you experience here, does not leave this island. This island is still a deserted old fort as far as you know. Once you leave here, you may never be able to come back.”

Raven gapes, Murphy snorts, Octavia’s hands clench at the order from another captain. But they all comply after side glances at Clarke.

Clarke who simply assents, who locks eyes with Lexa to show that she is on the same page, that she is trustworthy.

“What does that mean?” Clarke can’t help the question that spills out.

Lexa raises and eyebrow and continues softly, “It means, the island accepts who may come. You’ve been allowed here because you are with me. Once we leave, that may no longer be the case.”

“More secrets?” She teases.

“More secrets.” Lexa agrees and raises her glass. “To this continuing adventure.”

Everyone joins in and soon the discussion picks up again.

Indra inquires about how they shook Bellamy, and Raven and Octavia spiral into laughter as they tell the story from this morning. Clarke has heard the play by play more than once, and focuses on the food in front of her. How rich and hearty it is. How there are candles everywhere long and lit.

How comfortable Lexa looks.

How all the secrets are starting to come together.

Xx

After a long night the crew is ushered to their beds. Lexa asks Clarke to stay seated at the table, and she watches everyone fall out and file away, tipsy and full and happy.

Clarke moves closer to Lexa, sitting near the fire and sipping slowly from her cup.

She doesn’t want to be drunk.

Not tonight.

Not when she has so many questions.

“You may ask.” It’s like Lexa is reading her mind.

“Is this your home?”

“One of them. When I’m not in Polis.” Lexa’s voice is soft. Her face is soft. There’s a hint of a smile burrowing in her cheeks.

“For all of you… Commanders?”

“Yes.”

“How many other crews have been allowed inside?”

“None.”

“Are your people sworn to you? Is there a blood oath?”

“No blood, but yes. They understand what sailing with the _Steltrona_ means.”

“How long have you been Commander?” Clarke can’t stop. The reel of questions unspooling in her mind and flowing from her mouth.

Lexa’s eyes darken before she answers. If Clarke wasn’t so attuned to her, she would hardly notice. “For a while.”

“How did you become Commander?”

“The spirit chose me.” Lexa whispers. She looks back at Clarke with something burning in her eyes.

It seems so far out of the realm of anything Clarke has ever known and yet she knows it’s true.

“Because of your blood?”

“Yes. When I die, my spirit will choose a successor.” It’s a fact. A harsh cold reality that she has had to accept since the weight was placed on her shoulders. Clarke can hear it in her voice.

“Why?”

“Because that is how it has always been. I am a protector of my people, Clarke. I sail the black, I own the waves, I am given purpose beyond all of the trading and fighting.”

“Purpose. What does that feel like?” Clarke scoffs at the idea, not because she doesn’t believe it or understand it, but only to lighten the conversation from the seriousness it’s sunk into.

“Duty. Honor.”

She pauses and takes another slow sip, giving Lexa time to collect her thoughts.

“No one knows this do they?”

“Only Titus.”

“ _That’s_ why you put up with that sack of potatoes?”

Lexa cracks another smile, lopsided and pleased with the words flowing from Clarke’s lips. “Yes.”

“You shoulda picked someone else,  that man is terrible.”

“He is the _fleimkepa_. He will be _fleimkepa_ until his time has ended. I did not choose him.”

“You say you’re human but you’re this… _mystical thing_. A walking, talking, myth before my eyes. With the Nightblood and the whole…. Whatever it was you just said….”

“ _Clarke_ ,” Lexa cuts off her ramble. Waits for Clarke to look up at her. Places a hand over Clarke’s on the table, to signal to her that she is real and warm and alive. “I am just as human as you are. I have merely been given another purpose in this life.” She is quiet. And honest. And open.

Everything Clarke has come to associate with Lexa. _This_ Lexa.

Clarke looks into her eyes for a long moment. A stretch of time where nothing happens. Everything happens. Blood rushes in her ears and her cheeks glow from the fire and the person looking at her like that. She feels Lexa’s hand so sure and steady on hers.

“Do you still trust me?” It’s such a quiet question, her voice almost breaking on the words.

Clarke’s heart cracks open then. Shatters inside of her and pushes the pieces to make room for this astounding being.

“Yes.”

She means it with every fiber of her soul.

Xx

Lexa stands and leads Clarke out of the large room.

Leads her in the opposite direction from all of the crew.

Her hand grips at Clarke’s and she turns her head to share shy smiles.

The door before them is giant. Ornate.

Lexa opens it to a large room. Larger than it has any right to be inside this hull of a mountain.

There’s a fire already lit, fur blankets layered on the bed.

The bed with the large, carved headpiece that stretches almost to the ceiling.

They lean in together this time.

Meeting in the middle.

Their lips brushing softly against one another.

Reconnecting.

Reacquainting.

The fire blooms inside Clarke’s chest immediately.

Lexa is slow, slow, slow, as she pulls her. Towards the bed. Towards the deep.

Drags her down underwater.

The siren call of her lips the only thing Clarke can hear over her heart pounding in her ears, her own ragged breath as she meets every movement of Lexa’s mouth.

She falls deeper and deeper into the blue.

A smile on her lips.

Her lungs gasping for air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a rough few days. Few months. Whole year. I know. I know we can rally, and fight. I know that we can still make sure our community is strong. Keep checking in on one another. Keep building each other up. Keep believing in one another. We will persevere. I know it. I believe it. Love to you all. Ste yuj.


	19. XIX

Lexa makes a small, soft sound in the bed beside her and Clarke smiles.

Pushes her face farther into the pillow and listens. 

_Lives._

Tucking this moment away in her memory.

The moment she didn’t allow herself to have before, waking up alone in Lexa’s room both times they drowned in each other.

Lexa reaches across the bed, pulls Clarke closer. Kisses along her shoulder, her neck.

Flips her until Clarke can see the wide smile on her face.

“Good morning.”

Clarke doesn’t answer. Not with words.

She cups Lexa’s neck and pulls the lips before her down onto her own. Lexa’s sigh tastes better than any breakfast that could be laid out on the table before them.

Her body over Clarke’s feels like heaven.

Taut and lithe.

Coiled and relaxed.

The skin of her back rippling under the lean muscles that reside there. Moving and dancing as she works into Clarke.

Clarke who pulls her lips away to gasp, to moan.

No more words are spoken between them. They sink into each other and this moment in bed.

Sharing sated and sleepy smiles with each other as they gasp for air, the sweat still prickling against their skin.

Clarke hasn’t felt this refreshed, this happy upon waking up in ages.

It’s all the things she never used to want. The ones she hid from, ran away from. Keeping things casual, shallow. Never venturing anywhere near the deep.

But, Lexa…

Clarke wants to dive into the deep waters of her soul and never come up for air.

Xx

“They’re going to know.” Lexa chides.

“No, they won’t.” Clarke shakes her head, pulling her boot on.

“Clarke.”

“We’ve been huddled up and talking plans this whole time. This isn’t different, to see us emerge from a room together.”

“Your hair is a disaster.” Lexa blushes as she says it.

“That’s not my fault now, is it?”

“Clarke, we need to be serious about this.” She tries to be stern.

“Fine. You go ahead and I’ll brush my hair and meet you.”

“And what shall I say when your crew asks where you are?”

“I doubt any of them will be awake or coherent enough to care, but if they are just tell them I had too much to drink last night.” She shrugs, not at all worried about her crew or what they think. They know her habits better than she does.

“Is this a regular occurrence?” Lexa looks annoyed. Her words grating.

“The drinking or?” Clarke meets her eyes, nervous and bashful.

“I know of your other reputation, Griffin. I’ve been around you and the crew long enough. Yes, the drinking.”

There’s a twist of hurt in her voice.

It stings at Clarke.

“I’ve been known to have fun.” Clarke tries to lighten the mood. Tries to bring back the calm happiness that bloomed between them in the afterglow of their morning tryst.

Lexa huffs and yanks her belt tighter before buckling it.

“Lexa…”

She waits. Lexa stops fiddling with her belt and looks up, almost ashamed. Clarke steps closer and brushes her hand along Lexa’s sharp jaw, soothing the tension she can see locked there.

“It’s never been like this.”

She runs her thumb across Lexa’s cheek. Feels the deep breath Lexa takes before she leans in and places the softest kiss on Clarke’s lips.

She starts to pull away but Clarke stops her. Kisses her again with more gusto.

Sends her out the door with a rakish smile on her face and finishes cleaning up.

Xx

The only person at the table with Lexa is Anya.

Anya who raises an eyebrow slightly and gives Clarke a once over, before returning to the maps that are spread out before them.

Lexa’s compass rests on top as they chart another course.

“I see you like to start early,” Clarke says.

Lexa’s cheeks blush ever so slightly at the double entendre.

Clarke pours herself a drink and sidles over to the table, reading the drawings before them.

Anya already seems to be in the know, her finger moving slowly over the portion of the map that will prove the hardest for them.

Clarke listens to the two debate for a few moments before she hears Raven’s familiar gait get closer to the room.

“Ah, early birds…” She smiles and leans against Clarke, her eyes undoubtedly landing on the area highlighted on the map. “Cap….”

“Yes, Reyes?”

“Am I reading that right?”

“You are. We have much to discuss today.”

She can feel Raven tense up beside her, but the other girl voices no further opinions on the matter. Soon the room is filled with members of both crews.

“I take it you all slept well?”

“Yes, thank you for the hospitality, Commander.” Clarke offers on behalf of her ship. They look well rested and happy.

There’s a flicker of a smile in her eyes just for Clarke before she clears her throat and continues.

“We had a meeting, before this joint venture began, we all sat around the table and you pledged your support to us. I am going to ask you calmly and without judgment if you’re all prepared for what comes next. For the hardest part.”

It’s a unanimous agreement that spreads around the table. Clarke moves to stand next to Lexa, the fire at her back not the only thing warming her.

Lexa pauses and allows Clarke to continue.

“The Commander and I have discussed this plan at length, as you all know.” She smiles as Raven and Octavia both playfully roll their eyes. Lexa stiffens next to her.

She clears her throat before she continues, “I know you’re all with us, I know you’re all people who never back down from a challenge, but this will be the most challenging course any of us has taken.”

She glances down at the map. Lexa takes a breath beside her.

“We’re going directly through the Dead Zone.”

There are a few gasps, a few wandering eyes. The crews glance at each other in disbelief and excitement.

“No one has ever returned from the Dead Zone.” Indra breaks the strange silence.

“Correct.” Lexa is blunt.

“There must be another way, another course…”

“This is the only way. We have plotted and mapped every other idea, every other course. The only way to accomplish our goal is to cross the Dead Zone.” Lexa points at the map. At the brass figures of ships that sit around it.

At the courses they tried. Just for show.

Only for show.

Once the map was revealed, once her black blood had dried on the parchment before them, they knew.

Both of them.

Of course it had to be this way.

To find a myth, to find an uncharted legend, one would be required to jump into the flames.

Into the unknown.

“Alright, bring it!”

It’s Raven. Sure and loud, slapping her hand on the table.

“What else are we gonna do? This is what we love… the fierceness of the sea! Adventure! This is what I signed up for. We could be legends!”

Clarke smiles at her and breathes. Octavia nods next to her and pounds her fist on the table, “I’m in, Cap.”

One by one, everyone agrees. It circles around the large table, passing from one pirate to the next until it lands on Anya.

“Well, fuck, do I really need to say it? You know I’m always with you. I’ll die by your side before I leave.” She jokes, but there’s a seriousness hidden in her tone.

Lexa grabs Anya’s shoulder and squeezes.

“When do we leave?”

“Twilight.”

Xx

The crews spend the rest of the day getting ready.

Filling their bellies, and their packs with food.

Cleaning their weapons, blades and guns galore.

Clarke looks at her gun, the one passed down from her father. It’s been with her through everything. The weight of it in her hands is known, comforting.

She runs the rag over it again. Making sure the etchings in the barrel are pristine.

Only looks up when a new shadow enters her space.

“Clarke,” Lexa’s voice is gentle. Soothing.

“You don’t ever carry a gun do you?” Clarke doesn’t look up from her work, running the rag through the grooves in the metal before her.

“No.”

“Is that a _thing_?”

“Yes. I do not touch guns.” Her voice is serious.

“Ever?” She looks up then, a cocked eyebrow and a challenge.

She tosses the gun at Lexa who sidesteps, letting it fall heavily onto the floor.

“Ever.”

“Good thing that wasn’t loaded.”

Lexa smirks, “You would never have risked it otherwise.”

Clarke laughs, “So sure about that? Now I know exactly where we need to go to find this fucking city, what’s the point of dragging you around with me?” She bends down to pick up her gun, stows it back in her belt.

“Have I not provided you with enough evidence?” Lexa leans into her space. Her eyes flitting between Clarke’s eyes and her lips. It’s flirtier than Lexa has ever been.

“I can always be persuaded even further…” Clarke lets it hang there. Watches as Lexa’s eyes grow hooded.

Feels the hand on her cheek before she can react.

Lexa’s lips on her own.

She’s pulled into a heated kiss, Lexa’s body firmly against hers.

It’s over too soon, she chases Lexa but is met with a giggle. It’s rare and odd and another thing Clarke tucks away for safe keeping.

“What about now?”

“I guess I’ll make an exception.”

Lexa smiles another lopsided smile, one that Clarke only began seeing with this new version of Lexa.

One that Clarke would love to think was only for her.

“The crews are almost ready. We should head down.”

“As you wish, Commander.” She winks, and tugs on Lexa’s belt, earning a laugh.

Xx

Everyone is on the deck of the _Steltrona_ when Clarke boards. Her crew fits in better than she would have thought, their feet sure and steady on the black wood.

Lexa stands tall and grips her sword.

Clarke is overcome with feeling, with adventure and thrill.

The girl before her, beautiful and all-consuming. The quest they’re about to embark on together.

It’s all…

Everything she’s wanted from this life.

She aches to give a speech, to rally the troops, but this is Lexa’s ship.

Lexa must see the itch on her. Must sense it.

Turns to Clarke and tips her head, allowing Clarke the moment.

“I don’t know what waits for us out there. I don’t know what we’re sailing in to,” there’s a growl in her voice. “I know that I would never be able to find better people to fight this fight with. I know that this alliance has made us stronger. I know that myths have become truth before my eyes, and before all of this is done legends will be real.”

Her voice picks up in pitch, urgency. Until she’s yelling.

“I have asked you, we have asked you to follow us into the unknown for so long. And this is it, this is the life we all want. The life we all chose. We leave here today as mere pirates, but we will return from the brink as legends. As the very myths we’ve learned not to believe.”

She’s screaming now, and Lexa is closer to her. Her eyes on fire with the fight, with the thought of battle.

She looks alive, wild and untamed.

Her chest heaving.

She joins in as Clarke finishes, roaring, “Are you with us?”

The crew all yells it’s affirmations, drums sound somewhere below and a war cry rises from Lexa’s crew.

And Clarke’s body, her blood, her very _soul_ , thrums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting into some adventure now!


	20. XX

It will take two days of sailing for the _Steltrona_ to reach the Dead Zone.

Two days of mixed crews.

Of close proximity.

Of no break from the Commander.

The first night, Clarke’s blood is alive with the hunt.

With the sea.

She pulls Lexa into her bed and ravishes her.

Lexa’s eyes seem to glow in the darkness of her quarters, surrounded by the black wood, by the black water outside the window.

By the black paint still around her eyes.

She is wild and untamed, but she allows Clarke to do as she wishes.

Something flashes across her face.

Like no one else has ever been allowed this.

No one else has ever seen the Commander this way.

Clarke, Clarke thrives on it.

Xx

The morning comes too quickly.

The bed in her own cabin was cold, unwelcoming.

Clarke longed for the warm furs and warm arms of the bed she left, but it had to be this way.

She had to be present in her own room.

The crews are sluggish and tired after their rabble rousing the night before. They earn a stern lecture from Indra, glares from Lexa.

They settle into a routine after that. Serious and focused. The task at hand looming with every new inch of ocean sailed.

Lexa summons Clarke to her quarters for a midday meal, and Clarke tries to hide the smirk on her face as she thinks about the previous night.

Lexa calls out softly for her to enter and Clarke steps into the room, closing the door behind her and letting her smile take over her face.

“Are you hungry?” Lexa asks quietly, gesturing to the plate of fruit and cheese on the table by the window.

Clarke shakes her head, bites her lip.

Lexa smiles, her eyes darken, but she stands and her shoulders remain straight.

“Clarke, we have much to discuss.”

“Do we? Haven’t we talked ourselves out yet?” Clarke advances, eyes locked on Lexa’s plump lips.

“Clarke.”

“Ugh, fine.” Clarke groans and kisses Lexa’s cheek lightly before she sits in the chair with a loud sigh.

They eat in a comfortable silence, sharing small smiles and looks at each other.

Lexa tells Clarke about finding Raven and Anya laughing over something in the kitchen and Clarke’s hopes swell.

Clarke complains about waking up with black paint all over her, her face smudged with it. Finding it dotted across her skin in places she never would have assumed.

She watches as Lexa’s cheeks blush hot, and smirks at her across the table.

They finish their meal and Clarke can feel that familiar hum settle over them. Lexa stares at her, relaxed and light, as if she’s enjoying simply being here with Clarke. Her eyes drift towards Clarke’s lips and snap back up. Clarke doesn’t miss it though, her fingers tingling.

“I thought we had _much to discuss_ ,” she imitates Lexa’s cool tone.

“We do.” Lexa’s face pulls serious. Clarke hates it.

“Okay, seems like a good time to start that. Before I start something else.”

Lexa stands and pulls something out from a drawer in her desk. It’s small enough for her to palm, and she comes back over and slides her chair closer to Clarke’s.

She looks at Clarke, really looks at her, and Clarke can’t hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

Slowly Lexa opens her palm and holds it out.

A small square sits in the center of her hand. It’s etched with the same design as the coin still sitting heavily in Clarke’s pocket.

This one is thicker.

Looks heavier.

“What is…” Clarke reaches over and plucks it from Lexa’s hand.

It’s metal. Cool to the touch.

“Lex?”

“I have another mission.” Lexa’s voice is quiet. Reserved.

Clarke glances at her quickly before looking back at the coin in her hand. She holds it up against the light streaming in from the window.

“This is the same marking, but why is this coin different?”

“Because it serves another purpose.” She sounds so much like the Commander and not at all like Lexa.

“Have you been honest with me when you’ve asked me to trust you?” Clarke feels something prickle at the base of her neck.

“Yes. But I haven’t told you the whole story.”

“Well, now seems like a good time to start.” It comes out harsher than she intends, and Lexa flinches.

“Clarke, you must understand. There are things about me that no one can know. That _must_ remain hidden.”

Clarke nods, turns the coin over in her hand again. It hasn’t warmed to her touch. Hasn’t drawn in her body heat like a normal metal would.

“I have been given another task. That coin has belonged to the long chain of Commanders who have come before me. It is passed to each new Commander, each new Captain of this ship. We must protect it, keep it safe.”

“Why?”

“Because it is what will destroy the City of Light.” There’s a hardness that slips into her words. Her eyes become severe, focused. Her blood speaking.

Clarke hears what she’s saying, hears it but cannot process.

“I thought your goal was to find it, bring the keys back to your people?”

“The City of Light has been _destroying_ our people. It was lost, ages ago. Turned into legend and myth, the same one you heard as a child. I thought I would never have to worry about it, until those coins like the one you have began circulating in the trade around Polis.”

“Lexa-”

“ _Please_ , let me explain.” Lexa pleads, her eyes so wide and earnest. Clarke wants to fight against it, wants to shut off and walk out but she can’t.

“I don’t know who found the coins or brought them back, but once I saw them I knew. Titus almost had a meltdown,” she stops and smiles to herself at the memory. “This CIty… with it’s promises of everlasting life and an escape from death is more dangerous than anything else to my people, our people. To humanity.”

“That’s why the map has been hidden. Why wasn’t it destroyed?”

“It will be as soon as we are no longer using it.”

“Is this… how do you know all of this?”

“This is the history of the Commanders. The first Commander is the one who tore the map, who defeated the woman handing out coins and calling anyone who could hear her to join her. Every Commander since has been given this coin, has had to swear to the blood to locate the threat if it ever arose again and to destroy it for good.”

Clarke takes a deep breath, questions swimming through her mind. “Why didn’t the first Commander destroy it?”

“She couldn’t. She was too close to it. She believed in a time when the City of Light could be good for us, could be a haven. Her journals document,” Lexa stops and shakes her head. “Her beliefs were formed before it all turned to hell. She hid it and tucked it away and hoped that someone else would be strong enough to do what she could not if the city was ever found again.”

Clarke is silent for a long moment, taking it all in. Trying to wrap her head around the information that seems too crazy to be real, but too crazy to be anything but. She remembers the journal she read in Lexa’s quarters before this all started. How the ranting in the pages seemed mad and foolish.

“Is the guilt what drove her mad?”

“Yes.”

“And this is the key to destroying it?”

“Yes.”

“And it has to be someone of the blood. A Nightblood.”

Lexa’s answer is plain on her face.

“Lexa…”

“I know it’s a lot to take in Clarke.”

Clarke’s stomach turns. “What about our pact? Our agreement? I’ve promised my crew riches, told them this journey would be worth it. We’ve risked our necks more than _once_ on this damn _myth_.”

“Is that all you can think about? Gold and jewels?” Lexa spits and stands with a huff.

Clarke rises, pushing the chair back hastily with a loud scrape against the wood.

“No, it’s not,” she growls. “But I have a duty to my crew. A duty to keep them safe, to pay them what they deserve.”

She tosses the coin back at Lexa. Watches as she fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground.

Her eyes are wide and blazing, as if she’s surprised at Clarke’s reaction.

“It would have been a hell of a lot easier to go along with this if you had told me from the beginning.”

Before Lexa can answer there’s a hurried knock at her door. Clarke stalks over and swings it open with her fury, almost knocking Indra out of the way in her haste to leave.

“I’m sorry, Captain-”

“Don’t be, Indra. I was just leaving.” Clarke huffs and leaves, feeling Lexa’s eyes on her until she passes down the hall and out of sight.

Xx

Clarke sulks in her room for the rest of the day. Ignoring Raven’s knocks and Octavia’s inquiries.

Murphy comes in and brings her food with a strange look on his face.

“What?” She snaps.

“I’ve never seen you this in it, is all.”

“And that’s supposed to mean?”

“Listen, I know you think you’re being discreet but you’re not. Whatever is going on with you and the Commander is none of my business, but if you’re going to ask us to go on this fucking crazy quest with you, you’d best not fuck up this alliance while we’re on the way to the Dead Zone.”

Clarke glares at him as he sets the tray down and gives her a sympathetic look before retreating.

“Who else knows?”

“No one. Maybe Anya? But,  no one else for sure.”

She nods and he shuts the door.

Her food remains untouched.

Xx

It’s well into the night when there’s another soft knock at her door. Clarke huffs and gets up to open it.

No one is in sight but there’s a book on the floor in front of the door.

She picks it up, recognizing it immediately as another journal from the Commander. It’s different from the one she read before in Lexa’s quarters.

Older.

The pages frailer, crackling under her fingers.

This one has more English occupying its pages.

Clarke sinks into it. Into the story that begins, the journal entries read like something in a book. Tales of worldbuilding. Of extraordinary feats. Of a ship that can handle anything that comes it’s way. Of a falling out between an alliance of thirteen. How the first Commander was pushed, banished to the ends of the earth. Left alone to wither away.

Her coins taken from her. The ones forged in secret. The thirteen that were meant to unite. To make the alliance stronger.

All but one.

The one made for her.

The one that would hold the key to salvation. The one that could tear everything apart.

How quickly things began to spiral, how fast she had to act to stop it from getting too out of hand.

It’s all here for Clarke to read. In the first Commander’s own hand.

It’s all so real, even though it feels like a fanciful story.

Clarke stays up reading until the sky begins to lighten with the dawn. Until her yawns force her to set the journal aside and lie down, if only for just a little while.

She falls asleep dreaming of a strange eternity in a place that glows like the sun off the sea.


	21. XXI

“I’m glad you came,” Lexa’s voice is soothing. Clarke hates how it cools her anger like a balm.

She inches closer to where Lexa sits on her bed, one boot off and the other one almost buckled on her leg ready for a new day.

“Why did you want my help?” She clenches her fist, trying to hold on to her resolve, the burning ember of her frustration.

“I would have done this alone, but you were in too deep.” Lexa’s eyes hold nothing but truth. “And I do not know what sort of trials I will face when we land. How many men we’ll need, if we have to fight our way through.”

“Why me? Why not Roan?”

“I can trust you. You’re stronger than Roan. Ruthless.”

Clarke scoffs, “The _Azgeda_ have never struck me as soft in the heat of battle.”

“But you are different, Clarke. You are smarter, you know when to scale back on force to use words. Roan is brute strength. You are strategy and finesse.”

She blushes a bit at Lexa’s words. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Lexa gulps, visibly stiffens. Pulls on her other boot to gather herself before she replies. “I didn’t want you to change your mind.”

“Do you think so little of me?”

“No,” It’s soft but resolute. “The opposite…” her voice trails off and Clarke hears unspoken words.

“If this alliance is going to work you need to be honest with me.”

“I know.” She nods, chastised. It’s a strange look to see on someone so formidable. She stands, and her eyes meet Clarke’s.

“I know there are things you have to keep to yourself… things about you, your _position_ ….but you’ve got to give me the benefit of the doubt.”

Lexa closes the distance, runs her fingers over Clarke’s hand as it hangs by her side. Toys with it.

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

The last of Clarke’s anger melts away from the apology that flows from Lexa’s lips, that is alive in her eyes.

She moves into Lexa’s space, curls their hands together and brushes a tendril of hair off of Lexa’s face. A soft press of their lips feels divine.

Clarke pulls away, “If you ever pull that again-”

“I won’t.” Lexa leans back in, claims Clarke’s mouth for her own, and Clarke can taste the promise on her lips.

Xx

They come to the edges of the Dead Zone just before sunset.

Lexa’s grip on her sword is the only hint of her unease. Her back is straight, her eyes are focused, her mouth in a firm line. She is every bit the leader Clarke has heard about, has seen during their skirmishes on the sea.

Raven gasps next to her and her knuckles are white on the railing of the _Steltrona_.

The water before them is absolutely still.

Glass.

Frozen and black.

Black even though the colors of the sun dipping below the horizon light up the sky.

No reflection.

No mirrored image.

It is by far the strangest thing Clarke has ever seen as she’s sailed to the ends of the earth and back.

None of them speak. Too afraid to break whatever weird hold is on this place.

Not willing to disturb the ghosts.

Call out to the sirens that may sit below the water, waiting to lead them astray.

They float on to the surface and the ship slips through the water.

No waves rise up against the wood.

No wake follows them.

It’s unsettling.

Clarke looks over to Lexa, her face blank and grim.

When their eyes meet, there’s a softening. A show of worry. For only a heartbeat.

For only Clarke.

And then it’s gone.

She remains as stoic and set apart as ever.

Xx

It feels like an eternity passes before they see sight of land.

Before they see sight of the island that houses the City of Light.

When Lexa’s crewmate calls down from the nest, Clarke’s stomach churns. This is it.

They get closer and Clarke can see dozens of ships. All of them sitting perfectly against the serene water. Timeless.

Some of them from ages ago.

Older really than Clarke can easily recognize.

They sit untouched.

Like tombs.

“Why didn’t any of them come back? They’re all… perfect.” Clarke wonders aloud.

Lexa just sighs quietly next to her, works her jaw. Her eyes roving over the ships, the haunted land.

They anchor, and six of them slip into the boat to row easily to shore.

Lincoln dips the oars into the still water gently, and they watch as it’s barely disturbed though they glide easily through it. The torches hardly reflect off the dark surface.

It sends chills down Clarke’s spine and she sends a glance to Lexa.

Lexa who looks impassive and bored.

Ready to be over with this task and on to the next thing.

That shakes Clarke, too. How easily she can become the Commander. Can school her features into something that reveals no emotion.

The reach the shore quickly, no tide to fight against.

Everyone checks their weapons before heading farther inland.

Soon there is a long, winding staircase. Set in stone, weathered by time. Overgrown weeds and plants stick out between the slabs, reaching up into the air like cries for help.

Indra and Octavia start the climb first, Lexa follows, tilting her head at Clarke to keep them in the middle, the torchlight bouncing off her face, flickering around her war paint. Lincoln and Murphy bring up the rear.

The staircase is never ending, weaving through the hill in a long pattern, twisting and turning until they reach the zenith out of breath and sweaty and standing before a large gate. It opens easily, though slightly rusted.

It opens easily and they all take in a deep breath as they walk through.

A manor rises up out of the twilight, the likes of which Clarke has never seen.

Imperial and vast, it stretches far around the landscape.

“I was expecting an actual city…”

Lexa just glances at her and keeps moving.

She takes a few steps before she quietly responds, “We don’t know what this is yet, Griff.”

They near the door, writing etched over the threshold. Clarke doesn’t understand it but Lexa leans closer to her. “Take out your coin, it is the key.”

“Indra, Octavia, please follow us inside. Lincoln, Murphy, stand guard here.”

“Aye.” Murphy takes his orders without the slightest hint of an eye roll and Clarke feels a blip of pride in the middle of the mystery surrounding them.

Clarke reaches into her pocket and it feels warm. The coin is warm against her skin, seeming to hum in the presence of the large manor.

“Huh,” she stares at it for a second, waiting for Lexa’s cue.

As soon as the coins are held against the cool wooden door, it swings open slowly. Clarke and Lexa share another glance, agreeing to step into the house together.

Clarke keeps the coin palmed in her hand as they walk through the house. There’s light coming from inside, warmth.

It feels lived in.

A woman rounds the corner in a red dress, smile plastered on her face. “Good evening, Captains.”

Lexa’s back stiffens, her hand grips her sword.

“There is no need for that, Lexa.” The woman’s voice is cool and calm, it sets off a warning in Clarke’s head.

“How do you know my name?” Lexa tries to keep her voice even.

“I know everyone who steps foot here.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to enjoy yourself.” She says it like it should be simple.

Octavia moves closer to Clarke, “Griff, who is she talking to?”

Clarke turns her head and notes Octavia’s perplexed face, her eyebrows high and her eyes roaming the scene before them.

“You don’t see her?” she whispers.

“I am only visible to those who hold my key, Clarke.” The woman answers for Octavia and Clarke spins forward.

“What is this place?” she growls, feeling toyed with.

“My home.” The woman spreads out her arms and gestures around them.

“We are looking for the City of Light.”

“Child, you must accept it as your own before you can get there.” She talks to both of them, and Clarke’s fist clenches around the coin in her hand.

“How do we do that?” Lexa’s voice is calm this time. Collected.

“You must truly believe. Only then, will you be allowed access through your key.”

“What are you?” Clarke breathes out, not believing any of this, not understanding the strange, dreamlike world they seem to have walked into.

“I am your guide, Clarke.” She smiles and turns, leading them down the long hallway.

Octavia and Indra follow behind them, their weapons out and ready. Clarke feels the coin begin to warm again in her hand, vibrating with energy, recognizing the source of its power.

“Together,” Lexa offers as she steps closer to Clarke.

The woman in the red dress disappears through a large windowed door leading outside and Clarke takes a deep breath.

“If anything goes wrong, don’t wait around.” Lexa directs Indra.

“Yes, Commander.” She bows her head and ignores Octavia’s flustered look.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, you want us to just leave you?” Octavia sounds incredulous, almost hurt.

“If we do not return within the hour, yes. It means we could not complete the task at hand.”

“Clarke?” Octavia’s eyes are wild as she looks to Clarke for confirmation.

“The Commander is right, Blake. I trust her. Get yourselves and the crew out of here if we do not return.” She says evenly, trying to muster up some of the confidence rolling off Lexa.

Octavia’s mouth opens and closes a few times with her protest but in the end she raises her chin, her eyes blazing.  “Aye, Cap.”

The open door before them looks like it leads to nothing, but Clarke closes her eyes and believes she will be in the City of Light when she opens them. The coin in her hand vibrates again and she takes one long stride, seeing sunshine through her closed eyelids.

When she opens her eyes, she is surrounded by people in a large, colorful, vibrant city.

She spins slowly, taking it all in. Gasping at the colors, the fragrances, the happiness that radiates off the people around her.

But something is missing.

She looks back where they came from, but only sees the open door that leads back to the house.

Octavia and Indra are not visible.

And Lexa is nowhere to be found.


	22. XXII

Clarke ventures farther into the world before her, hesitant but curious. People seem to ignore her as she threads through the crowds, passing rows of merchants and food stalls.

Everyone here seems happy, preoccupied with themselves.

It’s strange to Clarke, how suddenly she’s in this new world. One moment and one step was all it took to transport her to…

Where, exactly?

The _people_ here are all clearly pirates, though some of the clothes are from an age that Clarke has only read about in books. Like the ships they found, these clothes are timeless. Show no signs of wear or age.

The people are timeless. Frozen.

She remembers Lexa’s description of the city.

There is no death here.

But is there life?

People are eating and drinking and merry, but are they real?

Clarke isn’t sure what she was expecting from this job, wasn’t sure even Jaha would know. The City of Light was merely a fantasy, a tale whispered to children tucked in their beds. And yet, she walks among it.

It’s like something out of a dream.

A painting.

So unlike the world she left behind. So different from her everyday life.

She keeps looking back over her shoulder, expecting to find Lexa.

Lexa with that amused smirk on her face, telling her not to worry.

But whenever she does she finds only strangers.

She takes a deep breath and straightens her back, vowing to find Lexa in the middle of this fever dream.

Xx

Everything goes fine until she begins to get nervous.

Until she walks deeper and deeper into the strange city before her and sees only people who smile at her, but with hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks. The thrill of everything around her has begun to wear off.

Clarke stretches her fingers and reaches to her side, to the small knife she keeps tucked in her belt, only to find that it’s gone.

“What…?” She whispers out loud to no one.

“There are no weapons allowed here, Clarke.” The woman in red is suddenly beside her. Looking more foreign and strange in the heart of her city.

“You’re confused?” Her head tilts to the side as she surveys Clarke.

“How is this place real… how did it come to be?”

“Questions like that will get you in trouble, Clarke.”

As she says it, the world around them dims, just the slightest. A cloud begins to move in front of the sun.

“I’m just trying to understand,” she argues.

“What is there to understand? Why question the things before you?” The woman sounds frustrated now.

“Where’s Lexa?”

“You do not need to concern yourself with her, Clarke.” She snaps.

Clarke stops moving and feels a wave of unease wash over her. As it does, the clouds darken and a breeze picks up in the streets.

“I warned you, Clarke.” The woman says before she disappears into the stream of people around them.

The stream of people who begin looking at Clarke like she’s the enemy, a hostile. Bumping shoulders into her as they pass by.

“Lexa!” She calls out, picking up her gait and jogging through the city.

It takes a few more minutes of exploring, a few more bumps and shoves from the people around her, before she sees Lexa. The familiar braids and long coat just a few paces away.

Relief washes over her.

“Lexa!” She calls again, moving quicker through the crowd until she’s a step away, reaching out to touch her, make sure she’s really there.

Lexa turns and grabs Clarke by the shoulders, getting a good look at her, squeezing her hands as if to make sure Clarke is real and not a vision.

“Clarke,” she pulls Clarke into a hug and Clarke grips her coat, her shoulders, keeping her close and breathing her in.

“I couldn’t find you,” she chokes back a sob that threatens to leave her mouth with the realization of how scary this place has become in mere minutes.

“I’m here, I’m here..”

“Lexa, we have to go.”

Lexa releases her hold on Clarke, but leaves her hand softly resting on her elbow. “I know, but I have not finished my task.”

“This place is starting to turn against us. I don’t know how, I don’t know where we are but look,” she points up at the clouds now swirling, at the rain that begins falling in large drops around them.

“It’s rejecting us,” Lexa whispers, her eyes still on the sky above them.

Her hands fall to Lexa’s waist, squeeze there with her uncertainty. “How do you know this?”

“I just… know, Clarke.” Her eyes take on a dreamy quality when she looks back at Clarke. “ _Oso gonplei nou ste odon_.”

Clarke quiets, trusting that this is more than Lexa can explain. Trusting that this is something about her history, her lineage, her black blood.

“Okay, Lexa. What do we need to do?”

“I need to find the source. It’s hidden somewhere, I can feel a pull. It’s been leading me towards that building.” She points at the tall building that rises up above the stalls and houses around them. It looks like something they would find in England or France.

Old and Medieval.

Lexa slides her hand from Clarke’s elbow, grabbing her hand and yanking her along with her. Moving through the suddenly crowded streets trying to slow their progress.

The closer they get to the structure the heavier the rain starts to pour down.

Soon they’re soaked to the bone, the wind howling around them.

Someone jostles into Clarke and sends her almost falling onto Lexa.

Lexa who grabs her and steadies her and notices the crowd start to form against them, creating a sort of barrier between the two and the building.

“I don’t have my weapons,” Clarke scrambles, searching all of her hiding places.

“It’s ok, Clarke. I do.” She’s still so calm as she unsheathes the sword that was hidden under her long coat. The one that’s always there, the one that Clarke didn’t even think to look for.

“They cannot cause us physical harm, Clarke.”

“How, why?”

“Because we have not fully accepted the City of Light. Even as it turns against us, the people who live here will be unable to injure us.”

“How do you know?” Clarke is exasperated. Lexa’s knowledge of this strange place seems all encompassing.

“I just _know_ , Clarke.” She repeats, a familiar glint in her eye. The same one Clarke saw before they entered the cave.

When she’s sure Clarke is ready, they step forward into the sea of hostiles. Lexa holds up her sword at an angle, ready to hack and slice at anyone who attempts to do them harm.

Her hand is strong and sure in Clarke’s own, holding on to her and squeezing when people step too close.

The crowd begins to part of them the more they work their way through, Lexa’s sword goes unused, but still acts as a barrier between them and the fantasy before them.

They make it through, make it to another set of stairs. Taking them in stride together until they reach the door.

Lexa stops them then, her eyes blazing in that way they do.

She sheathes her sword and grabs Clarke by the shoulders again. That same smile alight on her face.

She’s so beautiful, Clarke cannot breathe.

So alive.

So ready for whatever is to come next.

Lexa doesn’t wait any longer, grabbing Clarke’s hand again and pulling them through the open doorway.

The open doorway that does not let Clarke through.

She’s rooted to the spot. Her feet unmoving.

“Lexa!” she calls, frantic.

Lexa looks between the doorway and Clarke’s feet, before she meets Clarke’s worried gaze with wide eyes.

“Clarke, you must stay here.” Her voice is soft and measured, like her words are a request instead of a command.

“Like I hell I do.”  Clarke feels something ignite in her blood. “There must be a way, Lexa.”

“I have to do this on my own, and you have to let me.”

“Lexa…”

“Clarke.”

“I can’t just sit here while you go and fight! You asked me to make this journey with you, we’re in this together! We can find another entrance!”

“I know, and you have done so well. But this is something the Commander must do. Alone.”

A wave of feeling swells up inside Clarke, threatening to pull her under. “We’ve only just started…” Her voice cracks and she struggles to control her features, swallow the sob she can feel in the back of her throat.

“And we will meet again. You’ll see.” Lexa’s hand rests on Clarke’s cheek and she strokes just under her eye, soothing away the tears she can see welling in Clarke’s eyes.

She leans in and presses the softest, sweetest, shortest kiss to Clarke’s lips before sweeping away.

Clarke reaches out and grabs her arm, pulling her back. “Lexa, wait!”

She smirks and watches as Clarke closes the distance again and claims her lips for her own. Pouring everything she’s feeling into Lexa’s mouth.

Lexa looks dazed when Clarke pulls away, her eyes still trained on Clarke’s lips.

“Come back…” Clarke stutters on the words. Not knowing if she can complete the thought in her head. Not knowing if it’s too much too soon even though they sit in the middle of a dream world.

Wanting so badly to tell Lexa to come back _to her._

“I’ll try like hell.” She smiles that smile, and pulls out her dagger, handing it to Clarke. “If everything starts to get worse or the hostiles start attacking, you must go back to where you came in. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Lex-”

“Go back. Go through the door if the hour is up before you see me.” She is stern and her eyes are blazing. Clarke only nods, not trusting herself to speak.

And before they can rethink it, can distract themselves any longer, Lexa is gone. Her long coat sweeping behind her.


	23. XXIII

Clarke waits.

And waits.

The minutes dragging by. The time passing.

Lexa does not return.

They sky begins to flash and rumble. The ground beneath her feet shaking and shifting. Lexa must have figured out whatever it is that will bring this wicked place to its knees.

She stands stronger on the ground, clenching the dagger in her fist and vowing to wait. Not to move until Lexa is by her side.

She lasts a little while longer before she remembers the naked way Lexa looked at her. Asked this of her.

To get out.

To make it back.

It stops her heart for a moment.

How pure the ask was.

But still she cannot move. Cannot leave.

She hears footsteps grow louder, and the ground begins to shake even more.

Lexa flies out of the doorway, her eyes wild.

“ _Clarke!_ Go!” She yells and nudges Clarke before her.

And they run through the city.

Pushing people out of the way before they can push back. Yelling, flying.

She can hear Lexa just behind her, grunting and growling. Her sword hitting things, clanging with metal and flesh.

The people around them flocking to attack her, to stop her from leaving.

Clarke has to reach back a few times to shove them aside, to pull Lexa forward.

The dagger rests in her boot, ready for her to whip out and use should she need it. She feels better having it, stronger.

As if by sheer luck, she makes it back to the market, the booth she stepped through as she entered the new realm. The city now ugly and not as magical as it appeared when she arrived. The citizens seem more hollow, gaunt. Their eyes dark and listless.

If this is eternal life, she wants nothing to do with it.

The ground begins cracking and shifting under her feet, much like it did when the cave began to collapse around them. Clarke’s heart jumps into her throat as she scans the fleeing crowd for the wavy hair and war paint of the woman who was just behind her.

The sky begins to lighten then darken again. Falling into complete night, the rain pouring buckets.

“Lexa!” Clarke cries out after a particularly rough jolt under the ground. _“Lexa!_ ” she screams, her voice ragged.

No one even bothers to pay attention to her as they run and weave finding loved ones and holding on dearly. The shops around the market begin to fall apart, tear themselves in half, wares spilling into the cobblestoned street.

Clarke _knows_ she has to go.

Knows she has to leave before she can’t.

She turns back to the booth from which she emerged, only to find it blocked. Gone. Hidden from view.

A row of people with scowling faces and clenched fists stand between her and the exit.

“Clarke,” Lexa finally appears, her voice is ragged, her eyes trying to hide pain and exhaustion. “I’ll distract them, get yourself out of here.”

“No, I’m not leaving without you.” Clarke vehemently shakes her head, her own mind running away with possibilities, strategies.

“I’ll be right behind you.” She meets Clarke’s eyes with a sad promise. It’s the kind of look Clarke has seen on the dying.

“No, Lexa.” Clarke shakes her head and grabs her dagger.

Lexa nods before she scans the angry crowd. “Clarke, they want _me_. I can make it, now go.”

She shoves Clarke forward through the crowd. The crowd that parts for her, and moves in around Lexa.

“Lexa, I-”

“I’ll be right behind you, Clarke.” Lexa holds her gaze and nods, her eyes clear with the fight.

With a sob, Clarke heaves herself through the collapsing door, seeing bright  flash before her eyes and feeling hard ground slam into her.

Xx

“Clarke! Clarke…” Someone calls out to her. Pulls her back to reality.

It’s Octavia, hovering over her face. Cradling her head in her arms, her brow furrowed with worry.

“Oh thank god, Clarke.” She leans down and hugs her when Clarke opens her eyes and groans. Octavia helps her to her feet, brushes off her shoulders and smiles through her fear.

“Griffin, where is the Commander?” Indra’s voice is harsh, claws at the back of Clarke’s neck.

“She hasn’t come through yet?”

“No… she went _in_ with you, why hasn’t she _come out_ with you?” Indra rushes her, threatening and angry.

“She… she had to,” Clarke shakes her head, “Something about being Commander. She pushed me away, made me leave.”

“You left her? You _left her_!? Some _honor_ , some _code_ you live by.” Indra spits and reaches for her sword, Octavia tries to stop it, but she shoves her aside easily. Clarke can do nothing but watch her advance. Watch the anger and the fire build up in the woman before her.

She allows it to happen.

Her own punishment for going against everything she knows and leaving Lexa behind.

“ _Indra!_ ” Lexa heaves herself through the doorway, before falling to her knees. She gasps for air, sweaty and bewildered.

“Lexa!” Clarke cries out, pushes Indra back and rushes to Lexa’s aid, pulling her up to standing. Something behind her seems to close. Instead of a sprawling garden behind her, Clarke sees only darkness stretching to the horizon.

An empty space. Void of life, of color.

“We have to go.” She staggers forward, tired and aching. Swinging her arm over Clarke’s shoulders and steadying herself. Indra stands there gaping and confused as she watches the comfort between the two. Clarke puts it from her mind, focusing only on the girl next to her.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’ll tell you soon, but let’s get out first. This island is not safe.” She’s still gasping for breath from her run, not quite fully standing but leaning heavily on Clarke.

They move quickly back through the large manor, the wide front doors still open. Something feels heavy in Clarke’s pocket and she pulls out the coin. Or what used to be the coin.

When she holds it out to inspect in her hand, it’s merely a rusted piece of metal. No etching to be found on it. No smooth edges, no glow.

When the group walk outside they find the grounds around them littered with bones.

Bodies and corpses that have disintegrated down to nothing. Some are still clothed, while most have wasted away with the flesh that held them.

“What the-” Octavia doesn’t finish her sentence as she spins around. “What the fuck happened in there?”

“On the ship,” Lexa gasps again. Her breathing still deep, ragged.

Clarke takes a look at the makeshift graveyard they’ve entered. How different this place looks now that the City has fallen.

Each hand she lays eyes on is clutching the same rusted piece of metal that Clarke holds in her own hand.

What used to be a coin, a key.

“I thought you said there were only thirteen?” She says it only loud enough for Lexa to hear, her eyes trained on Octavia and Indra who step closer to inspect remains.

Lexa grunts with her step, trying to hide the pain as much as she can, “Originally. Thirteen like yours, there were more. Someone must have figured out a way to make more, even after the Pramheda fled.

Clarke lets that sink in, looking around the grounds as they try to hurry across. The lives lost to fantasy, to an altered reality. “You were right. This place… needed to be destroyed.”

“This is why no one ever returned from the Dead Zone,” Indra whispers aloud, scanning the ground.

“Looks that way,” Octavia replies, her eyes still wide and trying to grapple with everything around them.

The gate is still open, Murphy and Lincoln waiting patiently, weapons out and ready.

“You’ve looked better, Cap.”

“You, too, Murph. Let’s get out of here.”

Lincoln’s eyes go wide as he takes in the scene behind them, “Whoa…”

“Yeah.” Octavia grabs his elbow and pulls him forward, beginning the climb back down the long staircase to the ships.

Lexa continues leaning on Clarke as they descend. Her breathing back to normal, but her gait different. She seems drained completely, and Clarke does the best she can to prop her up, stumbling a few times in the dark, but never letting Lexa go. Ignoring the strange looks from Indra, the way the older woman wants to reach out and help her Commander. Clarke just grips tighter, hopes her steps are sure footed.

Lexa winces a few times, struggles to keep her groans quiet, but Clarke can hear them.

Attuned as ever to her.

Xx

They see the masts of the ships before they’re all the way down. The _Steltrona_ looks heavy as she sits in the water, her hull full.

Lincoln rows them steadily back, laughing as Raven calls down to them. Her voice echoes around the still water and bounces back.

They board, Lexa climbing up last. Slowly and methodically putting one foot in front of the other on the ladder.

She swings her legs onto her ship and immediately straightens. Clarke watches as she grips her sword with both hands, as if she’s trying to draw strength from it.

“It is done. Set the course, let’s get moving.” She barks, sweeping down to her cabin.

Clarke notices Raven’s shit eating grin hasn’t left her face and motions for her to follow them down to the quarters.

“You’re never going to believe what happened while you were gone…”

“You raided the other ships and found more treasure than you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“Damn, Clarke. Way to ruin the surprise.” Raven sighs and plops herself onto Clarke’s bed, swinging her legs.

Clarke pours them both some rum, downing hers quickly and enjoying the burn that slices her throat. It makes her feel real. Alive. _Here_.

“She’s sitting much lower in the water than usual.”

“Yeah, it was… Clarke, listen, I don’t know what anyone was thinking by carrying this shit around and then leaving it here. By the way, why _is_ it all here?”

“That is one _very_ long story, Rave.” Clarke sets her hat down and runs her hand through her hair. Pulls her jacket off and changes her shirt, soaked through with sweat.

“I’m assuming you have to wait and clear it with the Commander?” Raven wiggles her eyebrows and laughs at Clarke’s annoyed face.

“It’s her story to share. It’s her ship. I’ll follow her lead.”

“Sure, Clarke.” Raven stands and leaves, poking her head back in before she’s truly gone. “I got you a couple really nice, _really_ shiny items though.”

She cackles her way down the hall, and Clarke shakes her head as the ship below them picks up speed.

Xx

“Enter.”

Lexa is huddled on her bed with a grimace on her face when Clarke walks in a bottle of rum.

“You’re hurt.” She sets the bottle down and quickly walks over to Lexa.

“I’m fine, Clarke.”

“Lexa,” she levels a glare at the other girl and watches her wince before removing her shirt. There’s a dark bruise already spreading over her ribs on one side, stretching down to her hip.

Clarke gasps and reaches out to touch. Her instincts to heal overriding any sort of boundary that may be up between them.

Lexa flinches but Clarke holds firm.

“Looks like you broke a couple ribs. I thought you said the people in there couldn’t hurt us?” She runs her hand lightly over Lexa’s skin, trying to soothe the pain.

“They didn’t. The world started to fall apart before I got back. This is from something falling or collapsing… I don’t know. They were all piling on me and reaching for me and I just remember thinking I had to make it out.” She looks up at Clarke and her eyes are so earnest they make Clarke ache.

She leans forward and grabs Lexa’s neck, pulling her into a deep kiss. Breaking apart moments later to breathe. Resting her head against Lexa’s forehead and calming her frayed nerves.

“That was foolish.”

“I know. But I had to do it.”

“I know.”

Lexa connects their lips this time. Her hands landing on Clarke’s waist, pulling her forward. Grunting at the pain when she forgets her injuries and leans back.

“Lex,”

She’s met with a frustrated growl and pulls back, standing and assessing the bruising again. It’s a strange color, fascinating.

“This isn’t normal.”

“Neither is my blood.” Lexa teases and the realization dawns on Clarke. “How do you know so much?”

“My mother,” Clarke clears her throat. “My mother is a healer. I watched her every day before…” She sighs and Lexa reaches up, runs her hand up and down Clarke’s forearm. Patient.

Not pushing.

Never pushing.

Clarke looks down at her hands as she continues. “Before my father died, I thought I’d follow her into the field. Learn medicine. But… life had other plans.” She shrugs.

“I’m sorry about your father, Clarke. But I’m glad you’ve made a life on the sea.”

“Me too,” Clarke isn’t sure which part of Lexa’s statement she’s answering, but when she finally lifts her eyes, Lexa’s face is full of something soft and pure.

She holds it for as long as she can before it feels too heavy, too much.

“I need to wrap this.” She taps on Lexa’s side, and Lexa grunts.

“There’s some bandages down in the galley.”

“I’ll be back.”

Xx

Indra is waiting quietly outside of Lexa’s door.

“Captain,”

“Indra.”

Clarke takes a step before Indra calls out again, “Is she hurt?”

“Nothing gets by you, I see.” Clarke smirks.

“No. Not anything.” She glares at Clarke but relaxes after a long moment. “The Commander?”

“Broken ribs. She’ll be fine.”

Indra bows her head and lets out a long breath. “Take care of her, Captain.”

Clarke blushes, the meaning of Indra’s words heavy and meant for more than Lexa’s injury.

“I will do my very best.”


	24. XXIV

Lexa’s bruising is gone the very next day when Clarke removes the wrappings to check on her patient.

“ _What…?_ ”

Lexa kisses her forehead and strokes her jaw. “Clarke, my blood is special.”

“Yes, I guess it is.” She laughs and falls onto Lexa, taking full advantage of her healed ribs.

It is only now, only in this fresh daylight, this new dawn, that she lets herself fully admire the woman moving with her. Unafraid of what it could mean. Unafraid of the feelings bubbling in her chest.

The things that almost spilled out in the middle of a magical world.

She runs her hands along Lexa’s skin, how smooth it is. How warm it becomes with her touch.

She runs her hands along Lexa’s skin and she takes stock of every piece of Lexa.

The strength hiding in the wiry muscles, belying her thin frame.

The lanky limbs that tangle with Clarke’s as if they were put on earth to do just that.

The soft touch Lexa wills into her fingers, hands. Ones that have killed.

Ones coated with more blood than Clarke will ever know.

She is so different from Clarke.

And yet, they are the same.

Xx

She doesn’t bring it up until they’re lying in bed, spent and trying to catch their breaths.

“What happened in there?”

“I found the Fountain of Youth.” Lexa is reverent, almost amazed.

Clarke gasps, “Lexa…”

“It was the center of the whole city. The water inside of it glowed with something… it just, glowed. I stared at it for a while, completely entranced. Trying to understand. The maps all say it’s everywhere else in the world except for here.” Her voice trails off.

Clarke remains silent as she gathers her thoughts.

“There were etchings all around the fountain. A story. The only way to accept the City of Light was to drink from the fountain. Just one sip and you’d have everlasting youth, everlasting life. But you could never leave.”

“That’s why… that’s why all those people were trapped there. They looked happy at first, when I first entered but then they started to turn. They looked hollow and lost.” Clarke sits up on her elbows to watch Lexa tell her story.

“Yes. It’s unfortunate, the tiles warning of the truth were written in _Trigedasleng_. I fear I’m the only one who was able to read it.” Lexa runs her knuckles along Clarke’s jaw as she speaks.

“The language written in your journals?”

“The language started with the First Commander. Perhaps she thought it would be enough to dissuade people from the pull of it. From the greed and vanity of the Fountain.”

“But you destroyed it. _You_ did,” Clarke asserts.

“Yes. The key I had it was part of a missing tile. I could see right where it fit. When I placed it inside the empty spot, something clicked. The fountain turned and started shaking. The water stopped flowing and everything seemed to go still. That’s when the ground broke open. It swallowed the fountain whole like it was nothing. And I just started running, I had to get out, get to-” She pauses, her thoughts alive on her face. 

The unspoken word heavy in the air for both of them to hear.

Clarke doesn’t say anything. She settles back down against Lexa and squeezes her waist. She places kisses on her collarbone, trying to get closer to her warmth, her solid realness.

“Was it sorcery?” she asks quietly, Lexa breathing deeply against the top of her hair, enjoying the stillness.

“Clarke?”

“The City of Light. What was it? It’s scaring me when I think about it.”

Lexa brushes a soft kiss on Clarke’s forehead, over her wrinkled brow, tightens her hold on Clarke’s shoulders.

“There are many things in this world we cannot explain, Clarke. Mermaids, sirens, krakens in the deep, monsters that can swallow entire ships whole, the triangle. It would be wise not to think on them too long.”

Clarke shoots up again at that, rolling her eyes and startling Lexa with her abruptness. “Come the fuck on, Lexa! We just saw the effects of eternal life and a magical city where you can’t leave once you partake in the water that flows and you don’t want me to question it?”

Lexa smirks playfully at Clarke’s confusion, “This was the downside of allowing you to complete this journey with me.”

Clarke swats at her side and Lexa groans. “I may be healed but I’m still tender.”

“Serves you right. Can you just be real with me? I’ve accepted everything so far. Especially you and your _special blood_ or whatever.”

“I don’t know what it was, Clarke.” She shrugs, and props herself up. “I know I never expected to find the Fountain of Youth. I know I never expected to see all those bones, all those remains of the souls who were lost inside the City. I don’t know why the first Commander never prepared us for this. Never destroyed it. I am just as lost as you.” She falters a bit as she works it out in her mind, as she works it out enough to form the words to share with Clarke.

She sits up and leans closer to Clarke. “All I know is that the long line of Commanders who have served before me have all been tasked with this. But _I_ was the one to do it. _I_ was the one to bring down the City of Light.”

She looks proud, happy, satisfied with the outcome. Her eyes shine with it. Her skin glows. Her cheeks are full with her smile.

And Clarke, Clarke is proud too.

And struck with a very real, very scary thought.

This woman, this impossible, maddening, _force_ of a woman, has captured her heart.

And she is completely and utterly taken with her.

Xx

They make it back to Lexa’s island faster than expected, the wind in their sails boosting them along even with a full and heavy load.

The crews have a multitude of questions when Lexa debriefs them. Healed and happy and sitting at the table with her coat off and a drink in her hand she handles them all with ease. There’s an air about her that Clarke hasn’t seen yet.

One that she enjoys, soaks up as much of it as she can to take with her.

Anya and Raven lead their captains down to the hold of the ship with conspiratorial smirks on their faces. When the lanterns fill up the dark space, Lexa gasps loudly.

“Well, _fuck me_ ,” Clarke exclaims, making it a point not to slide her eyes to Lexa. She can feel the amusement wafting off the Commander without needing the visual confirmation.

Lexa weaves through the piles. The chests spilling open with gold coins, jewels. Statues and dining ware and everything Clarke could think of.

“How the hell did you manage to get all of this in here?”

“Where there’s a will there’s a way, Commander.” Anya smiles and pats Lexa on the back, proud of herself.

“Raven, seriously, who even thought to look on the other ships?”

“Really, Clarke? You left us there like sitting ducks. What else were we supposed to do while you six had the epic adventure of a lifetime?”

Clarke just spirals into a laugh, too overcome with the past few days to even comprehend anything that’s happened. Soon Raven is cackling next to her, holding on so they don’t fall over in their spell.

When she looks up, she notices Lexa smiling at her. Something glinting in her eyes. Something warm and safe.

A laugh bubbles up from her lips and Anya shakes her head before walking away.

Xx

By some miracle, they’re able to get all of the found items off the Steltrona and spread along the shore.

The goods are evenly divided between the two ships, and what’s reserved for the members of the Ark is placed back inside. A small section marked for Jaha, barely a dent of their spoils.

What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.

It’s a small price to pay for nearly dying while running through the collapsing City of Light.

A small peace offering for when she tells him the City does not exist.

Xx

She doesn’t mean to overhear it.

Doesn’t intend to eavesdrop.

But it happens anyway.

Stuck in the hallway leading to the large room where Lexa has set up camp, a question about the found treasure at the tip of her tongue.

A jeweled dagger tucked away and hidden in her boot. One that would look nice sitting in the Commander’s study.

Her feet stop her before her brain can catch up. Before her mind can move from the question and the gift, to what is happening in the other room.

The conversation low and quiet, intended for only those involved.

Anya’s voice takes on a new pitch, a new urgency with every hushed whisper. Her pleas seemingly falling on unwilling ears.

Lexa doesn’t even tell her to stop.

She lets Anya rant. Allows Anya to school her, to define her worries and anxieties.

To express her fear for Lexa.

The amount of care she holds in her heart for her Commander.

Clarke doesn’t mean to overhear it, but she doesn’t walk away either.

She waits, down the hall, holding her breath. Waiting for Lexa’s reply.

Waiting for _something_.

“Anya, why are you rehashing old history?” Lexa sounds bored.

“Because I was _there_. I was there that day. I was there for it _all_.”

“You were, and I will be forever grateful. But were you afraid I had forgotten the events in question?”

Her vowels harden and something changes.

“No, _no_.”

“There is no need for you to bring me these concerns. Repeatedly. I’ve heard them and I thank you for caring, but it’s none of your concern.”

“You are my Commander, your well being will always be my concern.”

Lexa sighs then, and Clarke can picture the weight falling off her shoulders with it. “I will always carry the mark Costia left on my heart. It will burn within me every day, but it is not the only thing that I carry. It cannot be the only solace I seek in this world. She, she wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“I know. I am simply reminding you to be careful. Griffin is-”

“Special. Clarke is special.”


	25. XXV

Both crews are raucous.

Drunk and enthralled.

Riches beyond measure belonging to each of them. The stuff of dreams.

Of lore.

Even Lexa smiles as she sips at her rum and eats the feast that was prepared, appearing on the table as if summoned by magic.

Clarke can’t take her eyes off of her.

And whenever Lexa looks up, her eyes find Clarke’s.

Simply drawn to each other.

She always blushes, looking at Clarke.

Her eyes are dark and secretive. But she blushes.

Clarke would tease her for being so open in front of their men, but no one pays them any mind.

Too drunk.

Too happy.

Too caught up in celebrating.

Before long, Lexa slips away.

Slinks into the shadows of the hall.

The hall that leads her to private chambers.

Clarke watches her go.

Waits.

And waits.

Until she can dip out of the room and follow.

Lexa’s words from earlier ringing in her head.

_Special._

That word burns a hole straight to her heart.

She’s before Lexa’s door before she can comprehend. She knocks, but doesn’t wait for an answer before she swings the door open, shutting it quietly behind her.

Lexa is there with that smile.

Soft and shy.

And Clarke’s heart nearly pounds it’s way out of her chest. Her hands tingle and there’s an easy warmth that bubbles under her skin.

_Special._

She flicks the lock on the door behind her and when she turns around Lexa is close.

So close.

But she doesn’t make a move.

Not yet.

They stand there just simply looking at each other.

Tomorrow they part, and only fate knows when they’ll meet again.

And tonight,

Tonight is _it_.

And so they stand there.

Taking it all in.

Clarke watches her.

Follows green eyes as they survey her face.

So soft and so open.

She feels naked under Lexa’s gaze even though she’s fully clothed.

There’s something sparkling there.

She doesn’t want to name it, doesn’t want to speak it.

But she sees it.

She knows.

It burrows inside of her chest and warms her from the inside.

An ember just for her.

A flame.

Clarke reaches out and tangles their fingers together. Needing to touch.

Not ready for anything else but this heavy moment that spans between them, but unwilling to be separated from her any longer.

Lexa is magnificent. Every single piece of her.

And Clarke finally understands with perfect clarity what it is about _them_.

About _her_.

Inevitability.

The pull, the call, the connection woven between their bodies, their souls.

It’s too big.

It’s not big enough.

Lexa finally moves like a shadow into her space.

Her warm breath hitting Clarke’s cheeks.

Her forehead resting against Clarke’s.

They don’t speak.

Another long stretch of moments.

Of silence.

Until it snaps.

And Lexa’s mouth is hot and wet against hers.

And all else is lost.

Xx

“Tell me about her.”

“Clarke?”

Clarke is propped up on her elbow. Her hand running gently along the smooth skin of Lexa’s stomach.

“Lexa.” She answers with a smile. Wanting to know Lexa’s grief but needing to be gentle.

“How do you know?”

She shrugs a half shrug with her free shoulder and allows her gaze to wander back to Lexa’s face. Pulling it away from the taut skin underneath her fingertips.

The look she finds there waiting for her is devastating.

So much of that feeling that’s been building inside her chest is on display for her and only for her on Lexa’s beautiful face.

“I hear things, I know things,” she whispers it. Not wanting to break this strange moment they’ve found themselves locked in.

“Then you already know.”

Clarke expects her voice to harden, her features to return to that implacable facade she wears so well. But it doesn’t.

“I know, but I don’t. But, I saw how you… reacted… to Echo.”

The light on Lexa’s face dims at the reminder and Clarke hates herself for ruining this moment.

Foolish and overstepping.

“And-”

“You overheard Anya.” Lexa finishes for her. Grabs Clarke’s hand, stills it from caressing skin, tightens her grip on it.

A reassurance.

“The Ice Queen has never liked me. Not since I ascended to become Commander. She’s wanted the _Steltrona_ for herself for oh, _ages_.” Lexa sighs.

“Since she cannot become Commander herself, she’s made it her mission to pull every Commander under her persuasion. She wants me to do her bidding. Wage her wars. Nothing has worked, as it shouldn’t. It never has. The Commander _must_ be alone. Without interference from outside sources. Without political ties to certain islands.”

Her eyes never leave Clarke’s. But she swallows hard before continuing her story.

“Costia was… mine. In every sense of the word. She was mine before I became Commander and she was mine after. It wasn’t hidden, we didn’t hide our love, but I knew the risks. She wouldn’t hear them. Simply refused. Said the only threat was from Nia and it was empty. No one thought she’d move against me in such a blatant way.”

Lexa chokes on the words. As if they’re hard to push past her lips. Stilted and foreign.

Clarke understands.

This is something she keeps to herself.

Doesn’t speak outloud.

“I was Commander for hardly a year before she was taken. Kidnapped on a mission from Titus, one that I had asked her to refuse. I knew how close it put her to _Azgeda_ waters. She called me stubborn, bull headed. Her fire was… “ Lexa looks away then, takes a heavy breath. “Costia was someone you didn’t want to make angry.”

There’s a hint of a smile on her face for a second, a breath, and then it’s gone.

“She was taken. Tortured because she was mine. Nia thought she knew my secrets. That if she caused enough pain, Costia would spill them for her. That she could use Costia to get me to submit to her will. But, what she didn’t know about Costia, what so few knew about her, was that nothing, nothing would get her to betray the ones she loved.”

Clarke adjusts her grip in Lexa’s hand. Squeezes for support.

“Nia sent me back her head. Had it delivered to my bed chambers in Polis.”

At a loss for words to soothe Lexa’s scarred heart, Clarke slides back down, settles against her skin. The only comfort she can provide is to be here, to be alive. They lie together like that soaking in the quiet. In the shared space.

Lexa’s fingers trail through Clarke’s hair. Along her back. Her strong heartbeat thudding just underneath her ear.

“This is not how I imagined we’d be spending our night together.” Lexa breaks the silence first.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Clarke knows it’s silly. Knows it’s not enough. Knows that nothing she can say or do will ease the pain of Lexa losing her love like that.

Lexa kisses the crown of her head in response and settles back again.

“I want you to know my heart, Clarke.” She says it with such clarity that it takes Clarke’s breath away.

“Lex-”

“When do you leave?”

“First light.”

Lexa moves then. Nudges Clarke onto her back and settles between her legs, her nose brushing along Clarke’s cheeks, her ears. Clarke feels the way they fit together. Commits to memory the comforting weight of Lexa on top of her, grounding her to the bed.

To the world they inhabit together.

Lexa’s kiss is deep and longing.

Full of things she can’t say yet, not out loud, but things she can still pour into Clarke.

Clarke who matches her.

Her own revelations spilling from her lips against Lexa’s skin.

Embedding themselves just underneath, like tattoos only visible to the two of them.

Clarke is completely overwhelmed by the feelings coursing through her. By the warm wave building in her belly. She comes quickly and it takes her by surprise.

Lexa’s name leaves her lips in a ragged whisper with her release. Her fingers digging into the skin of Lexa’s back leaving her mark. Lexa who is right there with her. Following Clarke over the edge before she even has a chance to come down from the high. Whispering her name over and over into her ear as her body goes taut and frozen.

“Clarke, I-” her breathing is unsteady. Her face flushed, her eyes blown wide.

Clarke doesn’t let her say it. Not like this.

She leans up and kisses her, capturing her lips instead. Tasting the unsaid words and feeding the flame burning in her heart.

Xx

It feels wrong. Leaving.

For so many reasons Clarke shoves from her mind.

She guides the Ark carefully back into the open waters before hiding away in her cabin.

In her bed.

She’ll be meeting with Jaha before sundown, delivering his prize. The bad news.

She needs to harden her resolve again. Settle the raw nerves that have crept up, aching for something that she cannot have.

Not right at this moment.

And possibly not ever.

Her body tired from not sleeping. The night giving way to dawn quickly, too quickly. Filled with Lexa.

Filled with her limbs and her kisses and her smiles.

A sigh leaves her lips and she curls up, curls into herself.

She falls easily into a dreamless sleep.

Xx

“Captain, I’m going to need you to repeat that for me.”

“The City of Light has been destroyed. It no longer exists. Seems pretty easy to understand.”  Clarke leans back and props her feet up on Jaha’s desk, already bored with this conversation.

“But you found it?”

“No. I found a graveyard filled with bones. Lost ships and lost dreams.” It’s the truth.

A half truth.

He doesn’t need to know the rest.

It will only add to her troubles.

“Where did the coins come from? Why have there been rumors and murmurs? I don’t think you’re being completely honest with me.” His voice hardens and he leans forward trying to read Clarke.

It won’t work. It never has.

“Not sure. Seems more likely that someone found a pile of them and decided to spread them around, rumor grew from that.” She keeps her voice full of skepticism. The skepticism that she herself felt until Lexa’s black blood and collapsing caves and the Dead Zone.

“That’s not what I’ve been hearing. Roan has been running his mouth in every tavern and every port. Says he fired on the Ark and the _Steltrona_. Have you been working with the Commander, Clarke?”

“It’s _Captain_. And you know as well as I do that I have shadows everywhere I sail. It hurts the egos of weak men to see me besting them.” She boosts herself up, allows the adrenaline to pull her forward. “Roan has been jealous of me since I got my own ship. If you’d like to believe his word over mine, then by all means.”

She stands now, adjusts her coat and picks up the bag at her feet, throwing it on the desk.

Jaha’s eyes widen as he opens it.

“Now, you can believe me or believe him but it’d be wise to remember who’s handing you that. And Thelonius, there’s much more where that came from. It’s being unloaded into your rum cellar as we speak.”

“There’s more?”

“You have your cut, as per our arrangement. Next time you have a thankless job, call Roan. You seem more pleased with his ideas than mine anyway.”

He tries to get her attention, to call out to her, but she’s already letting the door slam behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks, we are nearing the end of our voyage. Still with me for the last bit?


	26. XXVI

Days pass.

Turn to weeks. To months.

Lexa is a ghost.

The _Steltrona_ is nowhere to be seen on the seas. Anywhere Clarke chooses, the familiar black ship stays out of sight.

It eats at Clarke.

Digs at her.

The feelings that fluttered around her belly begin to harden. Turn to stone.

She’s sure if she jumped overboard she’d sink down, down, down.

It would be fitting... .

Lexa is her siren after all.

Xx

Bellamy dogs her.

They don’t take any jobs. They hide most of their new treasure and sail. Stopping from port to port to relax.

Get drunk.

Get laid.

He doesn’t try anything again. Never follows her onto land, but hovers just out past the break. Far enough away to be seen.

Clarke drinks.

And drinks.

And turns into her bed alone every night.

Wanting to soothe the ache but unable to see anyone else but Lexa below her when she closes her eyes.

They would have heard if something befell the _Steltrona_.

It would have spread like fire from ship to ship.

Lexa just…

Lexa just disappeared.

Xx

Clarke decides to head north, tired and bored and needing something to occupy her mind.

“Griff, we haven’t been up there since-”

“I know.” Clarke doesn’t let Octavia finish the thought.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It will be a nice change of pace don’t you think?”

“Aye, Cap. We’ll set the course.”

“Thank you, Blake.”

Octavia shuffles her feet, turning to go, but looking back. “Do you want me to get Raven?”

“For what?”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “You’ve got that look in your eye, Griff.”

Clarke just huffs and settles back in her chair. Octavia stares at her for another moment before leaving, the dismissal clear.

Only an hour passes before Raven barges into her room.

“You should at least knock for propriety’s sake.”

Clarke is stewing.

“We both know I’ve never been very proper. Besides, the rest of the crew are all too scared or enamored with you to try any of this shit.” Raven sets a bottle of rum on the table with an expectant look at Clarke.

“What?” Clarke snaps.

“The Northern Isles? Clarke, you told me if you ever suggested it to sit you down and make sure you hadn’t lost your mind.”

“I know what I said, Reyes.”

Raven hardly flinches at her harsh tone.

“Just so we’re clear, what year was I born?”

“Cut the fucking shit.”

“Alright, alright.” She swigs from the bottle and passes it to Clarke. Clarke merely shakes her head, her stomach in knots.

“It’s been a while.”

“It has.”

“The pain will still be there.”

“I know.”

“Your mother…”

“Won’t know I’m around.”

Raven’s eyes go wide at her admission. “Then why are we doing this?”

Clarke glares, looks at the bottle and back at Raven but doesn’t say a word.

“Ah! This is about the Commander. I _knew_ it.”

“Raven-”

“I should have seen it sooner. What’s it been? Almost three months?”

Clarke grits her teeth. Swallowing the words. Swallowing the feelings.

“Wow, you’ve really done it now, huh?”

“Done what?” She doesn’t hide the exhaustion, the ache.

“Given your heart away.” She inches closer to Clarke, empathy laced in her revelation. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

She offers the bottle to Clarke again. Clarke accepts it, taking a long pull and feeling the burn slice at her throat as it flows to her belly.

“Nothing to soothe the hurt like some debauchery in the Northern Isles. You know, I actually think Jake would be proud.”

Clarke offers her a half smile. A throwaway, to ease the worry of her friend.

It doesn’t work, but they both pretend it does.

Xx

It happens when she least expects it.

When they least expect it.

Heavy cannon fire explodes out of the night sky just before they reach their destination.

It’s Roan.

Roan who comes like a thief in the night to spoil their plans.

It’s over before she knows it.

His crew boards her ship at record speed. The last thing she sees is a bag being thrown over her head.

The last thing she feels is the heavy butt of someone’s gun.

Xx

She wakes up alone.

The cell is dark and cold, moving beneath her.

Her head pounds and screams, causes nausea to bubble up her throat, spilling the nearly empty contents of her stomach onto the floor.

When she can breathe and calm down, she takes stock.

No other major injuries. She can feel a bruise on her chin, and an ache on her forehead, probably caused from when she fell while unconscious.

No weapons that she can feel.

Just a giant bump on her head and a hole in her pride.

He comes to see her.

She has no way to tell how much time has passed, slipping in and out of sleep. Lulled by the waves and the pain in her head.

He carries a torch and some food.

She spits at it.

“Finally caught up to me.”

He smirks, “Something like that. You should eat, Clarke.”

“Fuck off.”

He takes a bite, “It’s not poisoned. If I wanted to you dead, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Where’s my crew?”

“On the Ark.” His tone is smug, baiting.

“Which would be?”

“Where we left it.”

Clarke grits her teeth and doesn’t say another word. Doesn’t reach for the food. Doesn’t look up from the floor.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a lovely dining companion?” That smirk again. He waits. “Alright, if that’s how you want to play it.”

The door shuts behind him with a loud thud that echoes in Clarke’s ears and adds to the ache in her head.

Xx

They come to get her.

It’s been hours or days or weeks.

They come to get her and gag her mouth. Tie her hands roughly behind her back. Throw the bag back over her head.

Someone guides her.

Off the ship.

Onto shore.

Up stairs and down hallways.

The sounds of chatter perk up her ears, growing louder and louder with each step. She can hear large doors being opened, and a hush falling over the occupants of whatever room she’s in.

Someone shoves her down, rips the bag off her head.

A bright, blinding light floods her eyes and she turns her head away.

Roan begins talking, but she doesn’t hear him. Doesn’t understand what he’s saying. His voice gravelly and tired.

Someone steps closer to her.

This voice, _this_ voice she knows.

It sets her on edge. Makes her stomach twist and turn.

“I told you to bring her to me unharmed,” Lexa bites.

“She didn’t come easy.” Clarke can hear the smile on Roan’s face. Her blood boils.

Her eyes have finally adjusted and she looks up. Drags her eyes up from the floor, up Lexa’s long legs. Her coat buttoned up and regal. The face devoid of eye black but set in stone.

Marble.

Her eyes revealing nothing.

She gestures for Roan to pick her up. “Untie her.”

“As you wish, Commander.” He makes quick work of the ropes around Clarke’s wrists. Clarke flexes her hands, aching to do something.

Aching to rid them of the familiar tingles.

It’s been months.

 _Months_.

And her hardened feelings already begin to crack with one look at the figure before her.

“So, about our deal?” Roan pipes up again.

“We’ll talk about our deal once the issue with your mother has been handled.”

“Hey, that wasn’t what we-”

“If you wish you keep your tongue, Roan, it would be wise to stop talking.” Lexa cuts him off, everything about her wild.

Clarke feels him tense behind her.

“Leave us.” Lexa’s command leaves no room for argument.

Everyone else in the room files out. Clarke doesn’t look at them as they walk past her, too busy glaring at Lexa.

She knows they’re alone when Lexa’s shoulders fall and her posture relaxes. She looks straight up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with Clarke.

“I’m sorry, Clarke.” Her words are fragile, her gaze soft and apologetic. She gingerly removes the gag from Clarke’s mouth, careful not to touch her skin.

Everything from her movements to her face is full of care, of compassion.

Clarke is having _none_ of it.

“What the _hell_ , Lexa? You had me _kidnapped_? By _Roan_?”

“It had to be this way, I had to make sure you didn’t fall into the hands of the Ice Queen.”

“Oh, _what_ the fuck? This is a new low even for you, _Commander_.”  Clarke doesn’t try to hide the venom in her voice. Everything that’s been building inside of her for weeks begins swirling, spiraling.

“Clarke,” she takes a steadying breath. “ _Please_.”

Her voice cracks and Clarke’s resolve falters.

“I haven’t seen you for weeks! _Months_! You disappeared into the night. I thought… I-”

“Clarke, I never meant,” she stops. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes glaze over and it’s something Clarke’s never seen. Not with Lexa.

That’s when she knows, this isn’t anything Lexa would have planned. Is something that caught ever her off guard and unaware.

Clarke makes the decision then to listen.

“What happened?” Clarke moves into the room and pours herself some water from the pitcher at the center of the large table.

The large table with a wooden throne at the head and several smaller chairs placed around it.

“Nia.”

“I gathered that, what about Nia?” Clarke needs to hear it. Needs to know why she was kidnapped, why Lexa avoided her. Why the drama was needed. Needs another moment to recognize the switch in their conversation, in her own emotional state.

“She made a move against me.” Lexa looks hurt. Looks unsure.

Clarke’s anger fizzles, concern taking over.

“Why did you disappear?” It’s a whisper, but it feels charged.

Charged with what they had and the absence of it.

“War is brewing, Clarke.” There is steel in her spine when she admits it. “Shortly after I returned to Polis, Nia made her threats. They seemed as empty as they always do. I knew I needed to lie low, not travel. Not see you.”

She looks sheepish and her half smile alights on her face.

“I didn’t think it would be long before this round of baiting was over but she got to Titus.”

“Serves him right,” Clarke grumbles under her breath until she sees the pained expression on Lexa’s face. The way she works her jaw. She feels bad then, seeing how torn up Lexa is.

“Clarke, he knew everything.”

“Lexa, there’s no way he would have told her. If he thought _I_ was a threat to you, there’s no way he would have cooperated with her, given up your secrets.”

“Clarke-” Her voice breaks again and she looks down. “He didn’t.”

Clarke moves forward, into her space. “Lexa, what aren’t you saying?”

The way Lexa looks at her with wide eyes glazed and fearful, shakes Clarke to the core, leaves her breathless. “He told her about _you_.”

Clarke doesn’t know how to respond. Can’t even begin to comprehend all of it, the kidnapping, the threats of the Ice Queen, the fact that Titus sold her out.

She can’t wrap her mind around it.

But mostly she cannot breathe with the way Lexa is looking at her like everything could fall apart any second.

“I only had a jump on her because of Roan. He came to me. Told me the plan. Offered to help me but make it look like he was still working with her.”

“What’s in it for him?”

“He’ll be made ruler of _Azgeda_ when this is through.”

“Where’s my ship? My crew?”

“We left them in the Northern Isles. They are being cared for, don’t worry.”

“There had to have been an easier way. There are too many moving parts, what if Nia figures it out? What if she attacks my ship and I’m not there? What if this doesn’t work?” The questions come swiftly out of her, her anxiety about leaving her people behind spilling out.

Lexa crumples.

Like she can’t handle the weight of everything any longer.

Her breathing is heavy and she looks the way Clarke remembers.

Human.

Like _Lexa_.

It only takes a second before Clarke pulls her into her arms.

Her spirit calmed as soon as she has Lexa in her embrace.

“I’m sorry, Clarke. I’m so sorry… I couldn’t-I can’t go through that again. I couldn’t…” she starts breathing heavier struggling for air to fill her lungs.

It’s easy then, to think about Costia. About the pain Lexa went through, the scars she bears so heavily on her heart.

How she looked when she told Clarke everything.

And Clarke’s heart nearly splits when she remembers.

And she hears the things that still go unspoken between them. Feels them in between the vowels of Lexa’s pleas.

How she trembles.

And in that second it’s easy, so easy.

To forgive. To move on.

“I’m here, Lexa. I’m here. I’m here with you and I’m okay.”

Clarke holds her until she calms, until she can breathe deeply again. Lexa is warm and solid in her arms, against her chest.

“What’s a little kidnapping between friends, anyway?”

Lexa laughs into her neck and Clarke cracks a smile, rubbing her back.

“If there was _any_ other way to get you here.”

“I’m sure there was, you just couldn’t think of it. And you didn’t have a lot of time to work with. We both know I’m the brains of the operation.”

Her laugh is even louder this time and she pulls herself off of Clarke to share a silly smile with her.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Lexa’s lips are just as soft and full as she remembered, even more inviting after their separation. It’s tentative at first before Clarke sighs happily into it and feels Lexa relax and kiss back.

It’s short. Delicate.

Full of everything Clarke became addicted to.

“We need to plan.”

“But I just got here…”

Lexa smiles, and it’s the smile that does it.

That has Clarke kissing her again, claiming it for herself. Surrendering to how it tastes against her lips.

And this kiss is better. Solid. New.

It’s _hello, I’ve missed you, I feel so much for you_ , all at once.


	27. XXVII

Lexa, Clarke learns, is more than just the mythical Commander of the _Steltrona_.

She also happens to be the leader of an underground coalition of captains who work together to keep their way of life from falling apart. The revelation has Clarke’s head spinning but before she can ask any further questions, Lexa is calling for everyone to come back to the meeting.

When those captains file back into the room, they all bow their heads in reverence to Lexa’s title. Her mantle.

Roan bows, with a smirk. Clarke wants to slap it from his face. He meets her glare with a bigger smile and swaggers to his seat at her side.

Lexa remains standing as everyone is seated. Waits for them to settle before introducing her properly.

“Please welcome Captain of the Ark, Clarke Griffin. Her presence at this meeting of the clans has been requested by me. She is the key to defeating the threat growing from the _Azgeda_ contingent.”

Clarke sits on her left side taking it all in. Completely in awe of yet another facet of this person she keeps thinking she knows, but who keeps surprising her.

Everything from her voice to her stature and Clarke tries her best to ignore the warmth pooling in her belly.

She misses the first few moments of the meeting trying to get herself together but slams into focus as soon as someone speaks her name.

Xx

The plan is simple.

Lure Nia into complacency with Clarke as bait, as a gift. As something to bargain with. 

Clarke watches as Lexa’s jaw tightens. Her scowl a permanent fixture on her face during the proceedings.

She sits at the head chair, the large wooden throne, her back straight and her hand gripping the arm.

It wasn’t Lexa’s idea, but it’s the best one they’ve got. The most probable for success.

Clarke doesn’t trust Roan, but she knows she’ll have weapons hidden on her and the ties will be loose around her wrists. Offering up the Ark and the Captain as a power play to get to the Commander.

All of the other captains in the coalition agree, nodding their heads or speaking out with support for the idea.

It’s settled before Clarke has time to really think about it.

Lexa stands and leaves the room when it’s done, her long coat swishing behind her. The other captains who sit around the table eye her, size her up, now that the Commander is gone. Some of them she knows, some of them she’s only heard rumor of.

Of the ten, only a few remain friendly as they leave.

Roan sits next to her not moving until the room has emptied.

“I’m sorry about all that.”

“You could have told me,” Clarke snaps.

“I could have, but I was under orders not to.” He’s apologetic, which Clarke wasn’t expecting.

“You follow her even though your mother does not?”

“My mother has not been kind to our people. Refuses to change her ways with the changing seas. The Commander knows what is good and fair, the _Azgeda_ will be better with someone who listens to her. Someone who is an active part of this alliance.”

Clarke hears the honesty in his words, the anger and frustration.

“And that person is you?”

“It is.”

“Even if it costs you your mother?”

“The Ice Queen has not been my mother for most of my life. I am but a subject to her. A pawn. A piece she can move around on her chess board.” There’s a bitterness to him, facts he’s had to come to terms with for years.

It’s only then, in that moment, that Roan becomes a trustworthy ally.

“I’ve sworn my allegiance to this alliance and this coalition.”

“Then why act like you haven’t? Why fire on my ship repeatedly, and stalk me wherever I go?”

He shrugs and smirks again, “I have to keep up appearances, Griffin. I’m not very keen on the idea of losing my head.” He shoves his chair back and holds a hand out to help her up, a gesture of goodwill. “Come on, I’ll show you to the Commander. I expect she’ll want to talk about this plan with you in private.”

There’s no innuendo in his statement, but Clarke blushes anyway. Feels that warmth rise up and take over. They walk quietly down a dim hallway lit sporadically with torches.

“Where are we?”

“The Commander will tell you once you’re officially part of the coalition. You cannot know until that point.”

“So many secrets.”

“Would you expect anything less from her?” He raises his eyebrow and studies her.

“Never.”

He stops and points, “Big door at the end, can’t miss it.”

Xx

She’s pacing.

Stalking.

Back and forth in front of the large fire that’s been lit.

Her coat still on and buckled, her scowl still marring her fine features.

The tense set of her shoulders and clenching fists match the frustrated movements.

“Lexa.”

“Stupid. Reckless. Unnecessary,” she growls.

“Lexa,” Clarke tries again, more forceful.

“Putting you in the line of fire… there are easier ways to bait her, but no one even cared to discuss them.”

Clarke moves further into the room, crossing her arms and watching Lexa go back and forth across the room, muttering to herself and to Clarke. There’s a fear there, the memories of her past blazing up between them.

Clarke knows.

It was the first thing that entered her mind when it was suggested.

It was the first thing that gave her pause.

When she slid her eyes to Lexa during the meeting she was met with only stone.

Lexa, Lexa is the champion of locking her emotions away behind her title.

But now, now they’re overflowing from her.

Pouring from her mouth, from her anxious movements, from her worried heart.

Clarke watches her prowl for long moments until she can no longer watch the way Lexa tears up her heart.

“Lex,” she whispers this time.

And for the first time since she walked in, Lexa looks up.

There’s a storm in her eyes. Raging seas. Her lips are set in a firm line and grim, so grim.

Clarke aches at the sight of it.

Of her like this.

It’s been weeks apart and now all she has is worry and frustration.

“ _Lexa_ ,” it’s a plea.

Lexa crosses the room in two giant steps and sweeps her into a kiss. Her hands cradling Clarke’s cheeks and pulling her close, her lips bruising and unforgiving. Clarke moves against her, draws Lexa in, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, her back.

She’s missed this.

This side of Lexa.

The Lexa who lets go and lets her emotions run wild.

Clarke can feel how much Lexa wants her, longs for her.

Lexa’s kisses grow sloppier, her teeth nipping and sharp. She pushes Clarke, pulls her down to the floor.

Clarke begins unbuttoning her long coat, sinks to her knees with Lexa still attached to her lips. Lexa’s coat hits the floor and Clarke slides her hands under her shirt, tugging it up and off, forcing Lexa to stop for just one breath.

Lexa’s eyes are wide, black.

 _Charged_.

She makes quick work of Clarke’s own coat, nearly ripping her shirt in the haste to see it to the floor. When she kisses Clarke again it’s with that same heat, that same passion.

She lets out a moan when their bare torsos touch. It feeds Lexa.

Her movements swifter, moving her body over Clarke. Clarke who feels the cold floor of the room against her back.

Gasping at the contrast between the cold and Lexa’s hot skin on top of her.

Her own burning and feverish with their lust.

Lexa doesn’t waste any time, slipping her hand inside Clarke’s pants. Slipping through Clarke and moaning with her. She trails her mouth down Clarke’s jaw, nipping as she moves her hand. Smiles into the skin when Clarke begins gasping, whimpering.

Rising up on her elbow to look at Clarke while she works into her. Thrusts and moves. Her pupils still blown black, her face shining and almost feral as she observes Clarke’s pleasure.

Clarke comes quick and hard, her body pulling taut as the wave pulls her under. Lexa watches, smirks, doesn’t still her hand but keeps going. Growling into her neck when Clarke wraps her legs around Lexa’s waist and pulls her deeper.

She doesn’t want to stop. Doesn’t want it to end.

The way Lexa shows her feelings, unbridled and unafraid, makes the flame in her heart ignite into a wildfire.

She breaks again with Lexa’s name falling from her lips. Lexa’s smile against her cheeks. Her mouth dropping down to kiss the skin between her breasts as Clarke gasps for breath.

“Clarke?”

“Hmm?” Clarke can’t catch her breath, enthralled with everything that just happened.

“Take me to bed.”

Xx

Clarke savors Lexa.

Kisses promises into her skin. Knows that Lexa needs this, the reassurance, the strength. The feeling of skin on skin and the pounding of her heart. Lexa needs it, needs to feel all of Clarke. Needs Clarke to pull her from her spiraling thoughts.

She moves her hand and Lexa whimpers. Clarke doesn’t make her wait for it, can see the way she keens for release. Begs with her eyes.

Still she savors. Moves methodically.

Holds Lexa’s gaze, watches her fall apart. Feels the way it happens, the way her heart shatters at the look of pure adoration on display before her.

And when she tastes her, she knows that this is the true Fountain of Youth.

The true elixir, the key to everlasting life.

She would drink from this source every day knowing full well that what has grown between them is the only thing that matters.

Lexa’s hands thread into her hair, her breathy moans sending shivers down her spine, only drowned out by the clenching of her thighs as she comes again.

Lexa’s kisses are still hungry, still deep and reaching when Clarke slides her body back up to kiss swollen lips.

She wonders, truly wonders if it will ever be enough. If she will ever have enough.

But when Lexa flips her onto her back with a wicked grin, the answer is there plain for her to see.

No.

 _Never_.

Xx

“I don’t like it.”

“I know.”

“I really, really don’t like it, Clarke.”

They’re lying in bed, facing each other. Legs woven together under the furs, hands resting on waists, heads sharing one pillow.

Clarke leans in and kisses her softly.

“There’s no other way. This is the fastest, the easiest option.”

Lexa’s eyes darken again.

“There are too many variables. It’s too risky, I can’t-”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t know that, Clarke.” She snaps, turning onto her back with a huff. Clarke watches as some of her walls come back up.

Clarke sits up and takes a deep breath. “ _I_ am not _her_. I’m me. I can hold my own in a fight, and Roan will be there. I am more valuable to her alive than anything else and you _know_ that.”

“Clarke,” her voice breaks and tears well in her eyes. She doesn’t try to hide them, not this time.

“I will be okay, I will come back to you.” She reaches out and wipes away the lone tear that trickles down Lexa’s full cheek. Her heart beating wildly in her ribcage.

It builds up inside of her and cracks the last pillars of resistance.

“Besides, I just figured out that I’m in love with you, I can’t go and die before we get to have a life together.” She shrugs and smiles.

Lexa’s eyes grow almost as big as the moon at her revelation. As if she can’t understand or comprehend the words that left Clarke’s lips. There’s a question on her face that remains unasked, but Clarke answers it anyway.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for a while.” She can’t help the smile that spreads on her face as she says it, even though she’s trying to stay calm.

“Clarke.”

Lexa pulls her down. Kisses her soundly, digging her fingers into the hair at the back of Clarke’s neck to keep her there.

When she pulls away to breathe, Lexa’s smile is so wide it’s blinding.

“Clarke, I-”

“No, don’t.” Clarke places her fingers against Lexa’s lips, “Don’t say it yet. Don’t say it until this is all done, okay? Give us something to fight for.”

Lexa nods solemnly and slowly before Clarke moves her hand away. The words there unspoken in her eyes. Written on every inch of her face.

“You’re maddening, Clarke.”

“I know,” she grins wanting another kiss, but Lexa can’t stop smiling long enough to meet her lips.


	28. XXVIII

The morning dawns quicker than she was prepared for.

Quicker than she would have liked.

Roan boards the Ark with her.

She’s bound and gagged, stripped of her weapons.

The crew all look on in surprise as some of the _Azgeda_ board with him.

They set sail. His booming voice sounding about her ship sounds wrong.

Misplaced.

She sits in the corner, against the wood as the ship rocks in the testy waters. They’re close to _Azgeda_.

When the crew is busy preparing for anchor, Roan sidles up next to her. Sends her a quick smile and a wink.

He does it to calm her, but it has no effect.

She’s ready for the fight. Ready to end this once and for all.

Missing Lexa and wishing she could share this look with her. The one before battle.

The one that says I’m here, I’m with you.

Together.

Raven and Octavia and Murphy and the rest of her lot are tied up and left in the hold of the Ark. Clarke requested it. Wanted them sequestered away from the Ice Queen.

Safe and protected from her machinations.

Still it hurts as she watches them struggle and fight, their muscles pulling taut and their throats growing ragged as they claw and scratch and struggle until they’re out of sight.

Clarke pleads with them with her eyes. Tries to will them to be calm.

It’s a fruitless battle.

Xx

Guards are waiting when they land on _Azgeda_ soil.

Roan scoffs next to her as they climb out of the water and onto shore. Everything cool and clean. An island unlike Clarke has ever seen.

“She sent the sentry, huh? Still doesn’t trust me after all these years?”

“You know how it goes, Roan. Precious goods must be watched.” A girl with dark hair and perfectly placed scars on her face looks at Clarke as she speaks. “She’ll be so pleased with you.”

“You speak as if I don’t know my own mother, Ontari.” Roan bites. It’s the most emotion he’s shown since Clarke has been with him.

Ontari doesn’t answer, she merely turns and begins leading them away, further inland.

With every step Clarke guards herself even more. Prepares for what may come. For the unthinkable.

She can hear the heavy footfalls of the crew behind her.

Roan never takes his hand off her elbow, guiding her along the pathway and providing what little reassurance he can.

Clarke remembers the quiet moments of the morning before she gathered to leave.

Waking up in Lexa’s bed.

Waking up to Lexa watching her, her furrowed brow relaxing into a soft smile when she realized Clarke was awake.

The kiss she placed on Clarke’s lips.

The one that spoke everything.

Pages and volumes of Lexa’s soul.

The one that begged silently that she come back. That she make it out of this alive.

The warmth and the love and the safety of the bubble.

She trips over something and Roan pulls her gruffly. “Careful,” he warns.

She needs to focus.

Goes over the plan one more time in her head. Tries to hold on to the calm that always seems to overcome her in Lexa’s presence.

Xx

The Ice Queen is as regal as Clarke had always pictured. She sits on her throne, a smug smirk on her face not unlike the one Roan always wears. Her eyes are pure malice as she sizes up the crew that walks into her chambers.

“My son, what have you brought for me?”

“Mother, lovely to see you as always.” He bows his head and releases Clarke. Clarke who takes a deep breath and ignores the blood pounding in her ears and the adrenaline spiking under her skin.

“Is that who I think it is?”

Roan gestures to Clarke, “Captain Griffin of the Ark, as you requested.”

“My how quickly you found her…” The Ice Queen stands from her chair and her gaze pierces through Clarke.

And she tries not to remember the last time she was bound and gagged and dragged into someone’s chambers by Roan.

“Stupid girl decided to venture into the North. She put up a good fight, but was wholly unprepared for an _Azgeda_ group close to home and refreshed.”

Nia moves closer to Clarke, studying her further.

“She doesn’t appear to be a threat,” her voice is venom and Clarke wants nothing more than to wipe the smirk off of it. “What could our dear Lexa even see in her?”

Clarke’s hands itch then, her blood curdling when Lexa’s name leaves her lips in that degrading tone.

“Not sure, but you had it on good authority?” Roan questions, digging the needle even further into his mother.

“Someone bring me the dog.” Nia calls out over her shoulder and Clarke hears people scramble to leave the room.

She turns her attention back to Clarke. “You have a wonderful ship, Captain. It will fit into my fleet splendidly.”

She leans closer as she says it, baiting Clarke.

Clarke doesn’t give her the satisfaction, matching her glare and burning with intensity, but not struggling, not fighting.

The doors open behind her again and Titus comes into view. Beaten and bloodied.

He stares at Clarke with wide eyes.

“I see you haven’t lost your flair for dramatics, Mother.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Roan?” The guards throw Titus forward, his hands tied behind his back. He falls face first at Nia’s feet. She nudges him up with her booted foot. “Titus, is this the girl you mentioned?”

Titus’s eyes grow even wider, silently pleading for something from Clarke. Nia kicks him when he doesn’t answer quickly enough.

“Yes,” he coughs out.

“The Commander’s little plaything?” Her voice drips with animosity.

“Yes.”

She pushes him again with her boot, shoving him to the ground. He groans and her eyes whittle to fine points before she turns her attention back to Clarke.

“Seems our little Lexa has a type, girls who like to move too close to danger. Well, we will just have to teach her another lesson.” She signals to another guard and eyes her son.

And Clarke knows this is it.

Now or never.

Roan shoves her aside and she swings out of her loose bindings, grabbing the knife he tucked into the back of her belt as they left the ship. Three of the guards are taken down and dispatched before Nia can even react.

Another of Roan’s crew moves to blockade the doors as Roan hacks down the two remaining sentries. He tosses Clarke a sword and she grips both in her hands before her, slicing at the guard who comes at her and watching the blood spill from his chest.

Roan’s people move and secure the room as Nia grips at her own weapon and stands behind Ontari.

Ontari who doesn’t join the fray but who is prepared to guard her queen.

Clarke makes her way to Titus and picks him up. Holds her knife to his throat and watches as Roan handles the last of Nia’s men.

“I knew I was right about you,” Clarke whispers in his ear, pulling the knife tighter against the brittle skin of his throat.

He struggles against her, and the tip of the blade sinks into his skin drawing the smallest drop of crimson blood.

“Don’t fucking move.” She holds him tighter and Roan squares up against Ontari.

“And what is this?” Nia’s words are glib, simply unfazed watching her own guards be struck down before her.

“This is a coup.”

And she laughs.

Throws her head back and laughs in the face of her son while moving away from Ontari, but only by a few steps.

“Are you going to surrender, or are you going to make me fight you?” Roan keeps his eyes on Ontari, though his words are meant for Nia.

“Silly boy, I had such high hopes for you. You could have been great. You could have been _astounding_. Instead, you’re just a _pirate_.” She spits the word at him like it’s bitter and spoiled.

Clarke watches him wince, ever so slightly at her words before he shrugs. “Better to be a pirate than a bloated ego.” He swings his sword at Ontari and the clash reverberates around the room.

A hooded figure steps into the fray then, small and unnoticeable until just this instant.

Slender hands reach up and pull the hood back and Nia gasps as Lexa’s face is revealed.

Clarke grips onto Titus tighter in her surprise. Worry working its way into her adrenaline. But Lexa looks calm.

Serene almost.

She has eyes only for Nia.

Roan tackles Ontari to the floor and disarms her, she surrenders easily after that.

Nia looks like she wants to explode. Her face red even though she tries to pull on a calm facade.

Nia screams at Ontari to get up, to fight, but Ontari shakes her head. The air shifts and Nia grows desperate, the sword in her hand looks awkward as if she’s lost the ability to wield it.

Or never had it to begin with.

Lexa steps closer and the tension in the room grows.

Her eyes are glowing again, alive and neon against her war paint. Her back straight.

Her hands empty of all weapons.

“Surrender.”

“I will _never_.” Nia scoffs.

“You have one chance, use it wisely.”

Nia grins, bares her teeth. “Do you think I’m scared of you, _Commander_? You hold no power here and you never have.”

Lexa moves closer yet. As unperturbed as Clarke has ever seen her. Almost as if she’s no longer Lexa at all but some strange creature.

“I would have let you keep your life, but now you will die by my hand.”

“You always were a big talker.” Nia grabs the sword with her other hand and attempts to block herself. She taps her foot three times and Clarke takes an elbow straight to her gut. One that sends her reeling back and almost to the ground.

Lexa falters for a second and Titus stands straighter.

Clarke cannot find her breath.

Cannot fathom the scene before her.

“What was that about surrender, Lexa?” Nia smiles and moves forward, the sword dropping down from her chest.

In one swift instant, a flash of silver leaves Lexa’s hand and buries itself in Nia’s chest.

Her eyes grow wide, grow huge. Her face pale. She staggers back and falls into her chair, gasping for air until she breathes no longer. Ontari makes a small sound from the other side of the room but Roan silences her with a look. His eyes are just as wide and disbelieving as his mother’s were.

Titus is the only one who moves. Scrambles, reaches and searches frantically for anything to shield himself as Lexa turns her attention to him.

Clarke finally stands up straight and watches the scene play before her. Her breathing still ragged and her stomach tender, but the thrill of victory thrumming through her veins.

The thrill of Lexa.

Titus finds a gun on the dead guard behind him and stands, his hands shaking as he holds it in front of him. It looks unnatural and unsteady.

It doesn’t belong. Doesn’t fit.

He pulls it up but instead of aiming it at Lexa, he points it at Clarke.

“She’s not good for you, _Heda_. She clouds our judgment. She will lead you down the wrong path, she will bring about your destruction.” He is angry and passionate and raving.

Neither of them move. Clarke can’t believe what is happening and Lexa is stock still barely breathing. Her jaw moving as she attempts to figure out the situation.

“Titus-”

He shoots, the only bullet in his gun lodging itself in the stone wall behind Clarke. Feet away from her.

Lexa moves quicker than Clarke has ever seen and disarms Titus in one fell swoop, twisting his arm behind him so hard and fast, a loud crack echoes around the chamber.

He cries out and drops the gun. She kicks it away and looks at Clarke, her eyes a raging sea of anger and hurt.

“No, Titus. That is you. _Natrona._ ” Her voice is hard, is steel. Her words unforgiving. Unmoving.

Titus whimpers again pleading in another language, but Lexa silences him with another twist of her arm.

She spins them around and her eyes lock with Clarke’s. Blazing and brilliant.

“ _Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op_.”

Titus crumples at her words. His face broken and bleeding. His once proud stature a thing of the past. He falls to the floor kneeling before Lexa, no longer pleading with words, but with his eyes, his demeanor.

Lexa hasn’t broken her gaze from Clarke’s, hasn’t spared him a second look. Speaks only to Clarke though they’re still in the presence of others. “The kill is yours, Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter remains!


	29. XXIX

They walk Titus to the balcony of Nia’s stronghold. The one that reaches out over the jagged rocks and cresting waves below.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t whimper or make a sound.

He stands resolute at the end.

Lexa doesn’t look away from him. The disappointment and betrayal clear on her face.

Clarke expects her to say something, but she doesn’t. She stands still and proud, her hand gripping her dagger and her coat buttoned up.

She is the Commander now. Titus may have betrayed Lexa, betrayed Clarke, but he will be punished by the Commander. His duties to keep her safe, to guide and advise her, broken the moment he helped Nia. The moment he moved against Clarke.

The moment he decided his life was worth more than his loyalty.

Lexa reaches for the knife she keeps belted on her thigh and hands it to Clarke with a small nod.

Clarke steps forward, the blade heavy in her hands. Titus finally looks at her then and all the hatred and fear she felt radiating off of him when they met is still there. It makes it easier, to slice into him. To draw blood and push him over the edge of the balcony. To send him to the sea to fight with the salt gods for his soul.

And when it is done, Lexa expels and heavy breath and marches back into the stronghold, her long coat sweeping behind her.

Xx

Clarke sits and waits for Lexa and Roan to discuss what comes next, watching their tete-a-tete from the opposite side of the room.

It becomes clear very quickly that Roan will prove a useful ally and capable leader, ready to work together to aid the coalition rather than fight.

Lexa looks astounding there. Her presence in full force as she calmly and skillfully makes her way through the negotiations. The Ice Queen may have looked regal sitting on her throne but Lexa, Lexa looks formidable and beautiful.

Majestic.

Raw.

And Clarke’s heart burns with love for her.

She wants nothing more than to kiss her, hold her in her arms. Tell her again and again how much she loves her.

But their duties are not yet finished.

And until they are, Lexa will remain as stoic and proper as always. And Clarke will sit and sulk.

Xx

Roan finally escorts them back to the Ark. They move quickly and quietly, the guards they pass bow their heads to their new leader and the Commander.

Lexa sets a quick pace and Clarke follows them both, laboring slightly after the adrenaline rush wore off. Her body sore and tender, aching and bruised.

She wants her bed.

A long, full sleep.

A certain warm body next to her.

Roan bids them farewell, bows to Lexa and shakes Clarke’s hand. “You’re one hell of a spitfire, Griffin.”

She laughs, “You have no idea, Roan.”

When she looks at Lexa, she can see the hint of a smirk, the hint of agreement on her face.

They row quickly to the Ark.

Lexa looks at her openly.

Unashamed.

“How badly are you hurt?” Her voice is quiet and private.

“Nothing a hot bath, stiff drink, and good sleep can’t fix.” She smiles at Lexa, trying to ease the worry that sits on her brow.

“Clarke,” Lexa admonishes.

“Really, Lexa. I’m okay. It’s been a long day.”

“It has.”

Lexa stops the discussion but leans into Clarke’s space. Her shoulder resting against Clarke’s, her warmth comforting.

They’re almost back to the Ark before Clarke breaks the silence again.

“When did you plan that?”

Lexa is silent.

Clarke doesn’t drop it. “I know it wasn’t with me, so when did you have the time to plan that?”

She works her jaw before she answers. “This morning. Before Roan came to collect you.”

“Did he know?”

Finally, she looks at Clarke. “Yes.”

And Clarke feels the last bit of tension leave her body. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

A flare of something hot and angry flashes in Clarke’s belly. “That was foolish, Lexa.”

Lexa takes the heat that comes at her and smirks that smirk. “You think you’re the only adventurous one? Have you learned nothing about me in our dance on the seas thus far?”

She’s teasing, calming Clarke with her words and her lips.

It’s working.

Still, Clarke fights back. “I would have felt better knowing you were there with me.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke. It had to be this way.”

Clarke grumbles until they’re just under the shadow of the Ark. “I know.”

Xx

The crew is shocked when it is not _Azgeda_ climbing on board, but their own Captain.

She greets everyone and runs down to the hold where Octavia, Raven and Murphy are being kept, throwing open the door and rushing inside to set them free.

They all tackle hug her, astounded and confused, but ecstatic.

Raven won’t let go and squeals in her ear even as they struggle to stand and join the rest of the crew on deck.

“You fucking rascal, Clarke. What the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with you?! How could you do that to us?” Raven is yelling but smiling and Clarke knows. There is still love there, there is still loyalty.

There is an absolute unshakeable bond that will never fade.

“I know, I know, I’m terrible and awful. I fail at friendship and piracy. I’ll explain it to you all after I get some fucking rum.”

“You better, Griff. I don’t worry over just anyone and you had us shitting bricks in here.” Murphy sasses and Clarke nods her head.

“I’m sorry for all of that. I wanted you three out of the way in case this all turned to shit. I wasn’t sure how the Ice Queen would react or if I’d even be successful.”

“Successful with what?”

“Let’s head up and I’ll explain it, yeah?”

Xx

Lexa waits until everyone is asleep before she pads quietly into Clarke’s room. Hardly knocking before opening the door just enough for her to slip in. Down to minimal clothing, just a loose shirt and her pants, her boots already unbuckled.

Clarke has been waiting for her, propped up in her bed with a book and warm under the furs.

The look on Lexa’s face makes Clarke’s heart flutter as she simply stands there looking at Clarke.

Breathing and filling the room with her energy.

Clarke feels calmer just looking at her.

“I love you.”

When she says it her shoulders relax and a smile spreads across her face. She looks giddy and alive. Even though it’s barely a whisper. Barely an acknowledgment. Like she almost can’t believe the words left her lips.

Clarke holds out her hand, signaling for her to come to bed. Grabbing the air in front of her wishing it was Lexa.

But Lexa stands still with that silly grin on her face and still doesn’t move. “I love you, Clarke.”

It comes out stronger this time. And her smile grows impossibly bigger.

“I love you, too. Now come over here so I can kiss you.”

She does. Finally. Two strides and she’s on the bed, Clarke’s face in her hands and her lips where they belong.

It’s a magical kind of kiss.

Solidifying.

Spectacular.

It reaches inside of Clarke and takes everything she’s got.

And Clarke freely hands it over.

Aware that this girl, this impossible rascal of a pirate, this astonishing being, has her heart.

Lexa moves onto the bed and settles herself on top of Clarke, kissing her neck softly and humming, happy to be here.

Happy to be with Clarke.

Clarke lets her hands roam over Lexa’s back.

Feels the moment drift into something else.

They lay quietly together for a long stretch. Breathing deeply and sharing soft, sleepy kisses.

“How are you?” Clarke finally asks, too afraid to do so before.

Lexa is quiet so long, Clarke is afraid she’s fallen asleep. But her voice is hushed when she does answer. “Sad. Frustrated.” She pauses for a long moment. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Lexa props herself up and looks Clarke in the eyes, the hurt layered in her irises is plain to see. “I do, I put you in harm’s way. I didn’t control TItus when I had the chance. “

“I put my own self in harm’s way, it’s my life. I’ve always done it and I don’t plan on changing anytime soon.”

Lexa clenches her jaw.

“I’m yours now, Lexa. But I’m still me. I’m still a pirate. I’m still going to make foolish decisions and be stubborn and headstrong and probably get myself into trouble more than I should.” She pauses and pecks Lexa’s lips, “But that’s what you fell in love with.”

“I did,” Lexa smiles and deepens the kiss for a moment.

“Titus had it out for me from the beginning. As soon as he met me. Because he could see the way you looked at me.”

“And how do I look at you?” She teases and Clarke can’t help but laugh.

“Like I fell from the stars after hanging the moon.”

Lexa laughs and rolls her eyes, “I do no such thing. You are quite the liar, Griffin.”

“Hmm… think whatever you want, I know the truth!” She kisses Lexa again. Simply cannot help herself. The small kisses speaking more than words.

“We’ll argue about this tomorrow.” She says around a yawn. “Are you sore?”

“A little bit. My knees hurt, my shoulders. I’ve had worse,” Clarke shrugs it off. Pouts as Lexa stands to undress, throwing her clothes at the end of the bed.

She pulls back the furs and slides in, kissing Clarke’s stomach where Titus elbowed her. Caressing her wrists, still red and chafed from her ties. Her warm skin on Clarke’s feels better than any medicine or salve ever could.

She is gentle and loving and so soft. So different from the hardened Commander.

Clarke feels better just with the tiny brushes of her lips on all the sore, reddened parts of her skin.

Lexa hums into it before each kiss, reverent and soothing.

Clarke brushes long hair off of her face and smiles when green eyes look up and lock on her own.

When she finally settles on top of Clarke again, eyes drooping and tired, Clarke kisses the crown of her head and runs her hands along Lexa’s lithe back.

It feels right and good and perfect and Clarke falls into a deep sleep.

Xx

“Captain Griffin, are you ready to swear your allegiance to this coalition? To protect this alliance with every cannon and every weapon on your ship? To protect the way of life we have all come to willingly, with full hearts and fire in our souls? To sail with me? To keep our secrets and our myths? To swear your ship to this fleet for the good of all? For the safety and freedom of the seas?

“I am.” Clarke’s voice is steady and sure as she bows her knee before Lexa.

Lexa who stands as regal as ever before her throne. The other captains of the coalition bearing witness, as Clarke becomes a part of their group.

As Clarke and her crew and the Ark become the thirteenth piece.

Lexa nods, her eyes not as stern as they were before. The next part of her oath must be made in the Commander’s language.

They practiced every night in bed for days. Lexa teaching her the meaning, the weight of the words.

Clarke wants them to roll freely from her tongue.

Lexa speaks. Clarke repeats, “ _Oso kik raun, ogeda, soulou. Ai laik yu gona, ai na get raun, you_.”

Lexa holds her hand out signaling for Clarke to take it.

To rise.

There is devotion on her face, for only an instant.

She nods again.

They speak the last part together.

“ _Yumi na teik, Won sonraun au_?”

And Clarke knows the words are already true.

Has already stood next to Lexa. Faced a foe.

Taken a life.

A life that threatened them both.

It’s not even a question. There is no doubt.

The ceremonial blade is placed against Clarke’s skin, slicing into the flesh and drawing a pool of crimson to the surface. Lexa moves it to her own, slicing in the same spot and pulling the black blood above the skin.

And both move their hands over the small fire in the urn between them, squeezing their blood onto the hot coals below.

Listening to the hiss as the liquid is swallowed by the flame.

Lexa shares a look with Clarke then.

She’s not the Commander for a blink, and then two, before adjusting and addressing those around them.

“It is finished. Clarke Griffin has become the Thirteenth.” Lexa announces. Pulls Clarke beside her and presents her to the alliance, their hands clasped between them.

Xx

“Clarke,” Lexa growls.

“Hmm?”

“We’re late.”

Lexa’s hands betray her words, clinging to Clarke. Keeping her close.

Clarke doesn’t remove her lips from skin. “What’s a few more minutes, then?” She nips and feels a rush when Lexa gasps.

“We have to address the crew and you need to go back to your ship before you ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation is that? Stoic stick in the mud who never gets laid?”

Lexa’s fingers dig deeper and she growls again. “The Commander has certain expectations to maintain.”

“So do I. I never leave a girl hanging.” Clarke slides her hand lower, feeling the heat. “You’ll have to be quiet though. We don’t need the crew overhearing you, _Commander_.”

The ship sways beneath their feet as Clarke pushes Lexa harder against the wall of Lexa’s quarters, propping her up with her body as she slides her fingers where Lexa needs them.

“I wasn’t aware speed was your thing,” she gasps as her head lands on Clarke’s shoulder.

“It is when we haven’t had any alone time together in days.” Clarke picks up speed, using her hips to thrust.

“The work of the coalition is important,” Lexa husks. Her hips moving with Clarke’s now.

“So are you. So are _we_.” She adjusts her stance and dips deeper.

Lexa bites back a groan then, her breath hot and ragged against Clarke’s neck.

It only takes a minute longer before she comes on Clarke’s hand with a sharp cry, strangled as she bites Clarke’s neck. Soothing it with kisses as she comes down from the high.

Clarke helps her adjust her coat, her belt. Puts the hat back on top of her head and smiles before kissing her sweetly.

Lexa’s looks as amused as ever with Clarke. Eyes brimming with that new depth that burrows into Clarke.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap, folks! And they sailed happily off into the sunset together, to roam the seas and plunder more caves and search for more treasure. Side by side, their ships working in tandem. This didn't start off as a season-three "fix-it" if you will, but it morphed into that as time moved on. I needed to make sense of that fucked up storyline in a way that actually serviced the characters on the show and not just some plot points. I appreciate everyone who stuck by this pet project, I hope you've enjoyed their hijinks! Lexa deserved better. Clarke deserves better. WE definitely deserve better. Until then, and even when, there will always be fic. As always, feel free to hit me up on tumblr whenever you like for questions, prompts or just to say hi! ~~xoxo, Orange


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